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popular Stories 

By AMY BROOKS. 

Each Beautifully Illustrated by the Author. 

THE RANDY BOOKS. 

THREE VOLUMES READY. I2MO. CLOTH. STRIKING 
COVER DESIGN BY THE AUTHOR. 

RANDY’S SUMMER. Price .... $1.00 
RANDY’S WINTER. Price . . . .1.00 
RANDY AND HER FRIENDS. Price 80 cents, 

for lounger IReatters. 

A JOLLY CAT TALE. Large i2ino. Cloth. 

Profusely Illustrated. Price . . . ^I.oo 

DOROTHY DAINTY. Large i2mo. Cloth. 

Cover Design by the Author. Set in large 
English type. Price ... 80 cents, nef 


2.y ^ 






I 



FRONTISPIECE. 


I watched him circling round me. 


P. 17. 


KING FOR A SUMMER 


A STORY OF CORSICAN LIFE 
AND ADVENTURE 


BY 

EDGAR PICKERING 


ILLUSTRATED BY WARWICK GOBLE 




BOSTON 

LEE AND SHEPARD 
1902 


psgs s 


Copyright, 1902, by Lee and Shepard. 


Published April, iqo2. 


King for a Summer. 


THE l '»RA»Y 
OONGRccj'-, 

Two Copies Receivco 

APR. 17 1902 

EN-^- 

CLASS oL XXz No. 

r-iV52£!L^' 


« « 
• 4r 


NorfaootJ tSress: 

Berwick & Smith, Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGB 

I. MY MOUNTAIN HOME I 

II. THE QUARREL 8 

III. THE DUEL 17 

IV. THE NOTARY OF CORTE 25 

V. THE THREE BANDITS 38 

VI. WHAT NASONE TOLD ME 45 

VII. THE ATTACK ON THE CAVE 54 

VIII. HOW WE FARED 66 

IX. STEALING THE HANGMAN 77 

X. AN UNEXPECTED EVENT 87 

XI. WE JOIN THE INSURGENTS 95 

XII. I SAVE NASONE’S LIFE IO3 

XIII. ON THE ROAD TO CORTE Ill 

XIV A PERILOUS ADVENTURE 120 

XV. SERAFINO’S STORY 1 28 

XVI. HOW WE TOOK ALERIA I35 

XVII. IN BASTIA 150 

XVIII. WE ARE ARRESTED * 1 63 

XIX. A RACE FOR LIFE 170 

XX. THE SORTIE 179 

XXI. THE ENGLISH SHIPS 1 88 

XXII. MARTIN CHICHELEY 200 

XXIII. LOST 215 


vin 


C O N T E T s 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXIV. THE RED GAMBTNI 228 

XXV. THE ATTACK ON THE FARM 239 

XXVI. WE START FOR AJACCIO 248 

XXVII. THE TAX-GATHERER 258 

XXVIII. UNLOOKED-FOR AID 269 

I 

XXIX. “A WONDERFUL COMING” 28 .^ 

XXX. THE KING IS CROWNED 297 

XXXI. THE PROGRESS OF THEODORE 304 

XXXII. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 314 

XXXIII. FABIANI EXPLAINS 323 

XXXIV A MYSTERIOUS SUMMONS 33I 

XXXV. SNARED ! 339 

XXXVI. MY COUSIN’S VILLAINY 34b 

XXXVII. martin’s STORY 354 

XXXVIII. A CORSICAN’S REVENGE 363 

XXXIX. THE GATHERING STORM 375 

XL. AN UNEXPECTED TEMPEST 382 

XLI. THE GOING OF THEODORE 392 

XLU. THE PHANTOM FADES AT LAST 398 




King for a Summer, 


CHAPTER I. 

MY MOUNTAIN HOME. 

M y favourite spot in the grim old house built 
in the shape of a great square tower, was a 
little room just beneath the pointed roof, having 
a window from which one could catch a glimpse 
of Ajaccio lying miles away. Down below the 
window, for the house was high amongst the moun- 
tains, were vineyards and olive-grounds, with here 
and there a great fan palm marking itself out plainly 
from among the brown-black cypresses and other 
trees that grew almost up to the house. 

The ascent to this was steep and narrow, leading 
to the high flight of steps that gave entrance to the 
building, and although the land surrounding it had 
once been cultivated, for two years or longer it had 
been left to itself and become overgrown with weeds 
and ground ivy. There were some out-buildings, 
but these had fallen to ruin, and all the life or 
movement there was, lay within the house, although 
that was little enough, for my cousin Fabiani Brasco 
was morose and silent, who kept himself like a prisoner 


2 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


and paid but little heed to my presence. He was 
a big, strong man, with grizzled curly hair that 
reached his shoulders, and walked with a limp, 
having a bullet in his thigh, put there, so Teodor 
told me, by one of the Arrighi. 

Teodor was my cousin’s son, and a year older 
than I, big like his father and fierce as a watch 
dog. We were not friends, through no fault of 
mine, however, and it would have taken little to 
have made us enemies, relations though we were. 
Teodor had a lofty overbearing way with him, being 
insolent upon the slightest opposition to his vain- 
glorious talk, and proud as a Genoese noble, boasting 
of his descent from the old signori of Corsica, as 
indeed I might have done, if it had been worth 
doing. My father had been one of the richest men 
in Bastia, so I had heard, but he died when I was 
a child, and Fabiani Brasco brought me to the home 
amongst the mountains, where it stood gaunt and 
solitary, like the fragment of some great castle that 
had crumbled away, and here for seven years I had 
lived, seeing and knowing very little more of the 
world than could be discovered from the window 
of the little room I have already mentioned. 

What I did know, however, was that between the 
Brascos and the Arrighis a deadly feud existed, 
being a parentado ^ on my cousin’s side at least, and 
that it was for this reason th6 land remained un- 

‘ An alliance of relatives with the quarrel, who are included in 
the Vendetta, 


MY MOUNTAIN HOME. 


3 


cultivated, and the lower windows of the house 
were kept barricaded with straw mattresses, having 
loopholes through which an enemy could be seen 
and shot at easily. It was not a very uncommon 
state for a house to be placed in, being called 
“ tnceppar le fenestreP" and in our case it had lasted 
so long that we were quite accustomed to the gloom 
which it made in the rooms. We were in a real 
fortress, for the only entrance to the house was by 
the steep flight of steps and these not even an 
Arrighi dare climb; but two years had gone by 
since Fabiani Brasco ventured down them last, and 
those who did so were always heavily armed and 
on the watch against a surprise. It would have 
been certain death had either he or Teodor worked 
in the fields, and it was almost as dangerous for 
Fabiani’s workmen. The last man he had employed 
never returned to be paid his wages, and it was 
three months before his bones were found, picked 
clean by the eagles. 

How the Vendetta began I know not, but it had 
lasted longer than Teodor could recollect, who 
was eighteen, and the quarrel had gone on until 
only my cousin Fabiani remained alive of four 
brothers, and he, as I have said, was crippled by 
a shot from his enemy Cesario Arrighi. Teodor 
tried to make the quarrel plain to me, but although 
I was a relative — my name was Camilla Negroni — 
I could never quite understand my share in it. He 
it was who called it Vendetta parentado and said 


4 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


Cesario Arrighi was as much my enemy as Fabiani’s 
and his own, and that I was to shoot him and any 
of his friends I might chance to encounter. How- 
ever, I had never seen the Arrighi, and cared 
nothing for him, neither could I get myself to hate 
him nor thirst for his blood. But I kept these thoughts 
to myself, not wishing to be considered other than 
friendly to my cousin’s family of whom I knew no 
others beside Fabiani and his son. It seemed a very 
long time since I had lived in Bastia, where my 
father died, who had been a trader, going to and 
fro to foreign countries, and was, as I say, reckoned 
one of the richest men in those parts. Fabiani, who 
came to my father’s funeral, took charge of me 
afterwards, and from that time I had lived with 
him in his lonely old house amongst the mountains. 
Now and again some of his kindred came to us, 
and we were regularly supplied with provisions, 
whilst Teodor and I were free to go in and out as 
we chose, although we rarely left the house, for 
there was no telling who might be on the watch 
for us, and a bullet flies very swiftly. It was a state 
of siege in fact, and I have heard of men being 
kept prisoners, as was Fabiani, for ten or twelve 
years, and these when the fear of their enemy had 
grown old and dim, had ventured out to find death 
still waiting for them. Paulina — she was our servant, 
old and tottering — said that a Corsican’s revenge 
never sleeps, and that a Corsican never forgets. 

It was from old Paulina that I learnt something 


MY MOUNTAIN HOME. 


5 


about myself and a good deal more about my 
cousin. She it was who spoke about my dead 
father’s riches which would be mine somq day — it 
Signor Brasco permitted, added Paulina, shrugging 
her shoulders for a reason I was to discover later 
on — and how that my cousin had lost a great deal 
of money in the year 1729 when Corsica revolted 
against its Genoese rulers. The house amongst the 
mountains was the only property remaining to Fabiani, 
and Teodor would have very little to inherit when 
his father died, she told me. 

I cannot say that Paulina’s talk interested me; 
she was a’ gossiping old woman, brown and shrivelled 
like a dried olive, and Teodor was for ever speaking 
about the war which we in the hills saw nothing 
of, hearing the faint rumble of it only as it were 
from the conversation of the few people who came 
to visit us. Teodor was for shouldering his gun 
and marching away to battle, but of this my cousin 
would not hear. 

“ I have spent enough for my country, ” said 
Fabiani, “and can ill spare you, my son; so stay 
here with me, and let Camilla go if he will ! ” This 
he said one day that I remember very distinctly, 
because it was the one before the day my cousin 
went down the steep steps of his house, on his way 
to Ajaccio. 

As I said, Fabiani had been kept prisoner in his 
own house for two years, and then came the time 
when he resolved to go into the town. I do not 


6 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


know the reason he had for this, but it must have 
been a very strong reason to persuade him to risk 
his life. Teodor tried to hinder his father from 
going, but my cousin was so bent on making the 
journey that all his son’s words were unavailing to 
prevent it. Paulina who came up to me in the 
little room from which the downward path and the 
road to Ajaccio could be seen easily, said that 
Fabiani’s visit was upon his own business affairs 
and he had vowed that though a hundred of the 
Arrighi might beset the way he did not fear them. 
Paulina and I stood watching my cousin and Teodor 
as they went down the winding path through an 
olive grove, until presently they disappeared and I 
followed the old woman to the lower rooms, which, 
as I have described, were always gloomy even at 
noon-day, because of the thick mattresses of straw 
before the windows, but I never knew the dullness 
and dimness affect me as they did that morning. 
There was nothing to do, nor anyone to speak to 
except Paulina, whom I could hear grumbling to 
herself in the underground room where our meals 
were cooked. I knew from the manner in which 
she moved the big copper stewpan as though 
dashing it on the table, that her mind was ill at 
ease, and then a sudden resolution came over me, 
to quit the house and go down that winding path 
through the olive grove — to go further away from 
the house than I had before gone, to go as far as 
Ajaccio even— it was but a few miles off — as I had 


MY MOUNTAIN HOME. 7 

longed to do many a time when I stood gazing out 
on the world from the little window. 

Fabiani and Teodor had been gone half an houi 
maybe, when I decided upon following them; and 
without a thought of danger I made my way down 
the path. The last thing in my mind was Fabiani’s 
vendetta parentado as I went swiftly beneath the 
big chestnut trees and through the cool green 
thickets on my road to Ajaccio, and a feeling of 
freedom added a delight to the journey. The sun 
shone brightly and a soft breeze stirred the leaves 
into a sort of music that was very pleasant to hear, 
and except for an eagle that was soaring high in 
the blue sky, not a sight of any living creature 
was there. Down the rocky path I went, eager to 
join Fabiani and Teodor before they reached Ajaccio, 
if possible, when suddenly there came on the air 
the sound of firearms. Once — twice — the report of 
a gun rang out, together with a cry such as I had 
never heard before, and I found myself holding 
my breath in eager expectation as I tried to peer 
through the thick foliage that hid the valley. 


CHAPTER IL 


THE QUARREL, 

F or a * moment I remained thus, and then ran 
to where a turn in the road gave me a view 
below, from whence came a little cloud of 
smoke out of a thicket, and the sound of voices, 
amongst them Teodor’s loud and shrill. I was listen- 
ing to this when from the trees that were not 
a hundred yards away, the tall figure of a man 
sprang out, who stood levelling his gun in the direc- 
tion of Ajaccio downward, whilst at the same moment 
another man came rushing towards him. There was 
a sharp report and the man who had been running, 
dropped on his knees, rolling over before he lay 
motionless with his face to the sun, and then two 
other men had closed upon the tall figure, coming 
unexpectedly from either side of the path, and one 
of them had a big vine-knife in his hand. 

I saw the broad blade flash in the light, and the 
tall figure seemed to quiver for a moment, but the 
fellow was so quick in his movements and strong 
that he had twisted himself free from the attack ana 
sent one of the assailants sprawling on the path, 



The tall figure of a mnn sprang out, 


P. 8. 




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THE QUARREL. 


9 


before being seized again, and a struggle, fierce as 
of wild beasts, began between him and his remaining 
foe. I saw him stagger once or twice, for the blood 
was pouring from a wound in his leg made by the vine- 
knife, and his grasp was on the throat of his foe, 
when there came staggering up the pebbly road my 
cousin Fabiani who leant on Teodor’s arm heavily. 

Fabiani’s face was blood-stained — that I saw at 
a glance— but there was no time to look at him 
again, for the deadly struggle between the two men 
had brought them close to me. With quick-coming 
throbs of breath, and faces pale with passion, they 
fought and wrestled, the taller of the men becom- 
ing quickly weakened. Try as he might, that 
wound in his leg gave his opponent the advantage, 
and with a stumbling movement the wounded man 
fell to his knees — leaving his broad chest exposed 
to the dagger that was uplifted. Another instant 
and the weapon would have decided the fight, but 
I had run forward, and putting all my strength in 
the blow, sent the murderous fellow backward. 

There was a sharp descent from the edge of the path 
at this point, hidden by bushes; and through these 
downward — I cannot say how far the man fell, but I 
heard his shout of rage from a great depth — went he 
and his dagger, and I turned to his wounded foe who 
sat on the path, with a laugh on his handsome face. 

“ I owe you my life, ” he exclaimed, getting himself 
upright with an awkward spring. “Tell me your 
name. ” 


10 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“Camilla Negroni.** 

“ I shall remember that always — and that you 
have saved me from death: I will repay you some 
day — never doubt that” — and maybe we should 
have said more to each other, if he had not vanished 
from sight amidst the trees, for Teodor with his 
father leaning on his arm was beside me. 

“What have you done?” cried Teodor, furiously, 
his face aflame with anger. “ Why have you let 
that assassin escape? help me to carry my father 
to the house — he is wounded and like to die of 
his hurt.” 

I glanced at Fabiani who was scowling beneath 
the blood which dyed his brow and cheeks, and was 
a good deal relieved, for there was no sign of death 
about him. He was badly wounded, however, a 
part of one ear had been shot away and the bullet 
had grazed through his curly hair, but the injury 
was not deadly. Fabiani was too full of rage and 
fury to die just then I reckoned, and the manner 
of his gripping my arm which I held out for his 
support, assured me of this. 

“ You have aided my bitterest enemy,” he ground 
out between his teeth. “ He who has kept me like 
a caged bird these two years, and who was in my 
grasp. We were five to one; and he escaped — it 
was through you, Camilla Negroni, that he has been 
snatched from my hand.” 

“ He would have been killed, if I had not sent 
that fellow through the bushes,” 1 replied, almost 


THE QUARREL. 


1 1 

as angrily as Fabiani had spoken. “ He was wounded, 
too, and had fought bravely.” 

“ But do you know who the fellow is ? ” cried 
Teodor, giving me another furious look over Fabiani’s 
shoulder as we went slowly up the path. “You, 
Camilla Negroni, of our own blood that you are, 
have saved the enemy of your family. It is Cesario 
Arrighi that you befriended. Think of it,” and his 
eyes shot out an angry flash. 

“ Cesario Arrighi ! ” That made me think indeed, 
as Teodor had said, and I understood very easily 
what had happened. Fabiani had been attacked, as 
Paulina had prophesied, and the three men, two of 
whom were lying on the path and the third of whom 
was somewhere in the direction of Ajaccio, had 
come to his assistance against Cesario. Yes, it was 
plain enough, and also that I, a sharer according 
to Teodor in the vendetta parentadOy had aided our 
bitterest enemy to escape. That was something 
more to think of as we three went toiling up to 
the narrow flight of steps of our besieged house. 

Not another word was said until we were behind 
the bolted door, but then Fabiani’s anger burst out 
again upon me. 

“It is through you,” he cried, “that Cesario is 
yet alive, and able to harm us further. See — my 
business has been prevented in being done; I should 
have been well on the way to Ajaccio had. Cesario 
not encountered me!” And Fabiani was raging 
thus when Paulina stopped him. He seemed to 


12 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


have forgotten his wounded ear, and so had Teodor 
who stood frowning at me ; but in spite of him and 
my cousin I could not feel sorry for what I had 
done. Nay I felt very glad that Cesario had not 
fallen beneath that murderous dagger, and that I 
had helped him to escape, but it was clear that 
Teodor' was my enemy from that day. 

Paulina forced Fabiani into a chair and began 
dressing his wound, making him groan once or 
twice, for her hand was heavy, and Teodor went 
striding out of the room. 

I had no wish for further talk with Fabiani, who 
at the best of times was harsh and sneering in his 
manner, so I left him also, and for the remainder 
of that day kept out of my cousin’s sight. There 
was no one to talk with except Paulina, and from 
her I heard the full account of the morning’s • 
adventure. 

It was just as Fabiani and his son had reached 
the broad road leading to Ajaccio, that a shot came 
whizzing past his ear, and then before he could 
hide himself in a thicket, another bullet had cut half 
his ear off, and Teodor had given the cry I heard. 
There were three men at work hard by the spot, 
and these came running to my cousin, who promised 
them a good reward if they killed or captured his 
assailant. This they promised to do, and the readier 
were they seeing that a price was set on Cesario 
Arrighi’s head, he being outlawed; and the rest of 
the story I have already told. 


THE QUARREL. 


3 


“Fabiani,” went on Paulina, “says that it is you, 
Camilla Negroni, who prevented Cesario from being 
taken; and let me tell you that you have acted 
foolishly. Not that Fabiani is any wiser, for ’twas 
only a month since that the message “ si preparasse ” ^ 
came. How it reached Fabiani’s hand I know not, 
but he showed me the writing of it, and said he, 
‘Not all the Arrighi in Corsica shall hinder me from 
going to Ajaccio.’ But there Fabiani proved him- 
self untruthful, as you have seen,” and Paulina gave 
one of her croaking laughs as she said this. 

It had never been very cheerful in the house, but 
from the time of the adventure I have described, a 
gloomier cloud than usual rested over it and its 
inmates. Fabiani never spoke to me, being satisfied 
with his scowling rebuke, I suppose, but Teodor 
showed his enmity openly. He would sneer and 
jeer at every friendly word I offered him, calling 
me a name under his breath so that I could 
not catch the meaning of it distinctly enough to 
resent it. I had no wish to quarrel, however, for 
all that I had done was but to have saved a wounded 
man’s life; yet to be ever looked at in scorn and 
resentment made me angry, although I restrained 
myself from showing my anger, until there came a 
day when Teodor’s words and manner could be 
endured no longer. 

We were alone, I remember, in the hot room 
that was shut out from the air and light by the 

‘ Let him be prepared. 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


great bulging mattress of straw which covered the 
window, but I could see his sneering face from the 
further end of the room amongst the shadows. 
Fabiani had gone to his bed to rest his wounded 
head which Paulina had bandaged afresh that morning, 
and for some minutes neither Teodor nor I had 
spoken. Then he said something, which set my 
blood boiling. He spoke it, in a tone as though to 
himself, but I knew he meant the words for me. 

“ There was a man once,” said Teodor softly, 
“ who lost his bravery, and delayed to avenge him- 
self upon his enemy. Who was willing to bear 
insult, and would listen unmoved when one said 
rimbecco' of him,” and when Teodor muttered 
that I felt my fingers tingling to choke the horrible 
word back into his throat, but I made as though 
I had not heard, and this prompted Teodor to call me 
by my name as if I had been a stranger to him. 

“ Signor Negroni,” he said aloud. “ You find this 
home unpleasant to live in maybe?” 

“ The house is well enough, ” I replied, as care- 
lessly as I could. 

“ So that it is these who are with you, whom you 
dislike — that is so ? ” 

“ I have not thought of that — yet, ” I answered. 
“ It is to come, perhaps. ” ^ 

“Nay, but it has come to me, Camilla Negroni,” 

* To use this word, which is to reproach for not revenging an 
insult, was forbidden by the old Genoese law in Corsica, as pro- 
voking bloodshed, and was punished by a fine, or public flogging. 


THE QUARREL. 


15 


he cried, starting to his feet, and I thought he would 
have used that hateful word again, which he whis- 
pered a moment before; but that I think Teodor, 
fierce as he looked, was not brave enough to do 
to my face. “ It is the sight of my father’s wound, 
that he owes to you; the thought that it is to you 
Cesario Arrighi is indebted for his life, and that 
you have proved a traitor to your family, which 
makes this house unbearable to me so long as you 
are in it.” 

“It is for Fabiani to send me away,” I retorted, 
“ you have no power here. And as for his wound, 
he owes nothing to me for it, so in saying that you 
have told a lie, Teodor Brasco.” 

I daresay my answer angered him, but I was 
beyond myself with passion. I had been unjustly 
blamed and treated with scorn for no cause of 
my own. 

“ I have power enough to make you repent of 
saying that I lied,” he exclaimed. “It is easy to 
talk thus while we are in this room, but you would 
not dare to do so if you and I were alone, Camilla 
Negroni, under the open sky, with none to inter- 
rupt us.” 

“ I will say that you did lie, wherever I may be. 
Fabiani’s wound was given him before Arrighi 
met me.” 

Teodor became suddenly quite calm in his manner, 
and he looked at me meaningly when I had said this. 

“ It is not a pleasant thing to be thought a coward, ” 


i6 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


he answered, nodding his head gravely, “ therefore, 
Camilla, you shall have the opportunity of proving 
that you are not one. Come to me presently, where 
the orange wood begins — we shall not be seen, 
believe me.” 

I understood what he meant — it did not require 
that Teodor should take down from the wall of the 
room one of the large knives that hung there with 
some other weapons, nor that he should flourish it 
before me. He had invited me to the Duello and 
unless I were indeed the coward he had called (me 
I must consent to fight him. There was no other 
method of settling a quarrel that I had ever heard 
of, and even brothers fought together, let alone re- 
latives closer connected with each other than were 
Teodor and myself. I had the satisfaction of know- 
ing that the quarrel was none of my seeking moreover, 
and in response to the invitation I made a gesture 
with my head, whereupon with a lofty air Teodor 
went out of the room; and I, having waited for some 
little time, took another of the knives and followed 
him to where, at a distance of about a quarter of 
a mile from the house, the wood began, that had 
a broad patch of bare rock at its entrance. - 

I recollect even now, the solemn stillness there 
was when we came face to face, and the evil look in 
Teodor’s eyes, as he stood holding his knife hand 
behind his back, creeping in a little circle round 
me to find an opening for his attack. 


CHAPTER HL 


THE DUEL. 

I SUPPOSE my blood was as hot as TeodoPs, 
even if I showed less anger, and for a few 
seconds I watched him circling round me 
preparing himself for a spring, with a longing for 
revenge such as I had never felt before. If I had 
not heard him whisper that word, maybe my anger 
would have been less; but he had called me “ coward” 
also, and that reproach must be wiped out even 
if it needed his blood to do it; and I watched 
with eyes that saw only his stealthy movements 
which brought him closer and closer to where I 
remained standing with bent body, on my guard. 

Nearer and nearer he came, until with a fierce 
stab his knife shot out, and I had parried the blow 
which went past my side, drawing myself backward 
a pace as I did this, and he laughed with a hiss. 
Then before I could guard myself, he had leaped 
forward and his knife went deep into my arm, 
making a cut which was as though a flame had 
touched me. It was my left arm, however, or the 
fight would have b,een sooner ended, and 1 threw 
17 2 


i8 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


myself against him before he could recover a firm 
footing, stooping a little, so that my knife blade 
made a long scratch — it was no more I am con- 
vinced — in his thigh. I did this, that I might 
disable him quickly and by so doing prevent worse 
coming of the duel. I had no thought of slaying 
him, angry as I was, and would have been well 
content in proving myself as brave as he ; but 
Teodor was otherwise minded I suppose, for with 
a yell of fury he was upon me again, dealing blows 
that it needed all my power to withstand, and all 
my good fortune to escape alive from. I knew 
that I was stabbed more than once, and my hot 
blood was pouring from a cut in my shoulder ; and that 
Teodor had not escaped I knew also, for my knife 
had a redness on it as it flashed in the sun. 

I had lost all my calmness now, and was con- 
scious of nothing but the sight of my desperate 
enemy as we struggled to and fro, that sunny day. 
Now Teodor had drawn apart from me for an 
instant, and then we were closely locked again, and 
suddenly it seemed that I was alone, panting and 
faint, for Teodor had fallen with his face hidden by 
his outstretched arm, and the knife, clenched still 
in his hand, had thrust with such force as to shiver 
the blade against the rocky ground. And when I 
saw this a great flood of remorse came over me; I 
forgot his sneers and taunts, only remembering 
that Teodor had been my kinsman; and running 
forward I turned him on his side. He was not 


THE DUEL. 


^9 


dead, but a deep groan escaped him as he looked 
at me, and then his eyes closed, as if death had 
seized him; whereupon I gave a cry of alarm, 
and as though in answer to it, a man was standing 
at my side, and glancing up I recognised Cesario 
Arrighi. 

“I was amongst the trees when you fought,” he 
said. “This is Fabiani Brasco’s son, by the sight 
of his face.” 

“He forced the quarrel on me,” I cried. “He is 
hurt, you see. We must get him to the house.” 

“ I doubt if he is likely to be much the worse 
for his fight,” replied Cesario composedly. “He has 
fainted from loss of blood, and will recover himself 
presently. Help me to bandage this wound which 
is the worst of his hurts, and then we may leave 
him to get to his house by himself. His condition 
is not so dangerous as yours.” 

“But I am only scratched,” I replied, “ and Teodor 
has ” 

“Your life will not be safe' for an hour when 
Fabiani discovers this,” said Cesario, binding Teo- 
dor’s wound skilfully the while. “ I know him better 
than you do. He will never forgive what you have 
done — neither this nor that service you rendered me 
some days ago.” 

“Fabiani has scarcely spoken to me since,” I 
replied, “and Teodor calls me ‘coward.’ We fought 
because of what I have done.” 

Cesario gave a little laugh and got up from the 


20 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


ground. “It is as I said,” he continued, “ Fabiani 
will find a way of ridding himself of you — it would 
not be the first he has sent into silence — I know 
Fabiani Brasco well enough to say that, and here is 
another reason why he should compass your death. ” 

Teodor had opened his eyes again by this time 
and Cesario took me aside. 

“Come with me,” he said. “You will find that 
I am not ungrateful for your saving my life. It is 
yours now which is in danger, and you must get 
far away from this spot before the alarm is given. 
Look there” — and Cesario pointed in the direction 
of the house — “see those men whom Fabiani has 
hired to capture me. Your answer — give it quickly 
— you will find I have not warned you without a 
good reason.” 

There was no time to pause and think, for as 
Cesario said this I saw three or four men coming 
toward us, and a shot from a gun went screaming 
by me. Cesario was already on his way to the 
wood, going lamely through his recent hurt, and 
with a glance behind I followed him, leaving Teo- 
dor gazing after me as he rested himself upon his 
hands for a moment. And that was the last I had 
of him for many a day, and it was a longer time 
still before I set foot in my cousin’s house again or 
spoke to him. It was the first, too, of a life full of 
adventures and dangers, which began at the moment 
when with the fierce cries of our pursuers behind 
us I ran with Cesario Arrighi into the wood. 


THE DUEL. 


2 


I caught him up before we reached the opening 
amongst the trees, and when we were well hidden 
by these Cesario stopped and looked me straightly 
in the face. It was not until this moment that I 
had marked him closely, but when I did so a great 
liking for him came over me. Cesario was a hand- 
some man, a good many years older than I, ten or 
twelve maybe, and there was a pleasant smile in 
his brown eyes. He was tall and straight in figure, 
with the look of strength which can never be hidden, 
and there was a merry ring in his voice. I lost 
the recollection of the Vendetta between him and 
my cousin as Cesario spoke to me, and it. was not 
many minutes before we were on the friendliest 
terms. 

“ They have missed a rare prize this morning,” 
he laughed, jerking his head backward, “for I am 
worth more money to other people, than I ever 
was to myself, Camilla.” 

“ But are you certain it was you whom they wished 
to capture ?” I asked ; and then Cesario turned a glance 
that was half serious and half merry, on me. 

“Listen,” said he, “there is not a man more 
sought after in all Corsica than 1. There is a price 
on my head — likely enough Fabiani has told you 
that already — and more than once that money has 
been nearly earned. Three years now I have lived 
amongst the mountains, going into the town at the 
peril of my life, but yet going whenever I had 
occasion to. You must understand that I have a 


22 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


relative in Ajaccio, better known as Nasone ^ than 
by his true name, which is Emanuel Matra, and it 
is from him that I know of the blood money that 
is to be won by killing or capturing me.” 

“ But why is this ? ” I asked as we went through 
the dense wood, Cesario going as though the way 
were well known to him. “What have you done? ” 

Cesario shrugged his shoulders and thought a 
moment before answering. 

“ It is a long story, ” he said at last, “ and has 
a beginning at the time when I was a boy, before 
living in Ajaccio with my mother — may she rest in 
peace,” and Cesario made the sign of the cross on 
his breast reverently. “ She and I lived in a little 
house, that Nasone lent us without rent, for my 
mother was poor, and widowed. I have a clear 
memory of my father, and of the small farm which 
he cultivated. He was a handsomer man than I, 
Camilla, big and strong, who would have faced 
Fabiani Brasco and his three brothers boldly in fair 
fight, ” and the speaker’s face turned fierce and red 
as he came to this point in his story. 

“ There was a feud between us — we Arrighis and 
the Brascos — they had done my father a great injury 
and he vowed revenge — it was Clementi Brasco who 
set fire to my father’s little granary and slaughtered 
two of our horses. It was Pasquele Brasco who 
sought my father’s life more than once, and it was 
Fabiani Brascb who broke the oath of reconciliation 


A nickname, meaning “ large nose.' 


THE DUEL. 


23 


which the parolanti ^ had imposed. But now only 
Fabiani remains alive.” 

We walked on in silence for a time when Cesario 
had told me his history thus far, and then he stopped 
abruptly, opening the breast of his coat, showing me a 
morsel of bloodstained linen fastened to his shirt. 

“You see this,” he said, touching the piece ot 
linen ; “ it was from my father’s dress, after he had 
been murdered, and my mother pinned it on my 
breast. He had been found slain just beyond the 
olive grove which formed part of our farm, and 
the man who did the deed was Fabiani Brasco. 
There were no tears in my mother’s eyes when she 
bade me revenge my father’s murder, and I have 
obeyed her. But Fabiani had committed his crime 
so secretly that there was no hope of the law 
touching him, nor did I wish that it should. I had 
to wait, however, wait until years had gone past 
wherein my mother became poor and at length died 
of her sorrow. That is three years ago, and it is just 
three years vsince my first chance of revenge came. Cle- 
menti Brasco had died and his brother Xavier, but 
Pasquele and Fabiani were alive and prosperous. 

“One day I had walked from Ajaccio into the 
country, and it was at a little inn by the roadside 
that I saw Pasquele Brasco sitting with some friends 
at a table outside the house drinking. Nasonehad 

^ Mediators, who interposed between hostile parties, in order to 
put an end to a quarrel, each party taking the oath of reconci- 
liation. 


24 


KING FOR A SUMMER, 


told me that Pasquele had been in Italy, which was 
the cause of my not encountering him before, but 
the sight of him sent the blood tingling through 
my veins. He was laughing as I passed the inn, 
and at sight of me he laughed louder than before, 
sending a jeering word or two at me. Then I 
turned, facing him, and the next moment Pasquele 
had done with laughing for ever, going down in 
a heap under the table with a bullet from my gun 
through his head. Part of my revenge was satisfied.” 

“What happened after that?” I asked, giving a 
sidelong look at his resolute face. 

“ I had to flee for my life, ” he replied carelessly. 
“ There was only one place of refuge, and that was 
amongst the mountains. I was banned by the law, 
which condemned me and set a price on my head— 
there was no means of earning my livelihood in 
Ajaccio as formerly, and one must live; so to the 
mountains I escaped, and there I have spent these 
three years. People choose to call me a ‘Bandit, ’ ” — 
and Cesario laughed once more. 

“And it is in fear of you that Fabiani has been 
kept prisoner ! ” I exclaimed. 

“ You shall hear of that at a future time,” replied 
Cesario. “I have something to tell you of Fabiani; 
and Nasone, whom you shall visit presently, will 
say more to you of your cousin.” 

He was silent again when he had said this, as side 
by side we quitted the shelter of the wood and 
began climbing the steep side of the mountain. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE NOTARY OF CORTE. 


T he path was a toilsome one and we had gone 
beyond the trees, gaining a great height from 
whence a far-reaching space of country was to 
be seen. Far below lay a partly ruined town, the 
name of which I do not know, and a little from 
this I could make out the white roof of a house 
which Cesario told me was a deserted convent, a 
burying-place being close to it, the grave-stones 
peeping out from among the cypresses ; and beyond 
lay the blue sea sparkling in the sunlight, with a 
fishing boat no bigger than my hand, as it seemed, 
lying on its glittering bosom. Above were the 
misty summits of the mountains, and out from their 
grey veil dropped a great vulture down into the 
valley; and as the bird sank from sight the silence 
and solitude became deeper. 

Cesario had not spoken for some time, keeping 
his gaze before him to where a great mass of rock 
stood out, having a path round it that as I looked 
seemed scarcely broad enough for a wild sheep to 
traverse safely. 


26 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


It was all strange to me, this view and the path 
I was travelling; and there was need for all my 
care in walking, for the way was over rolling stones 
and between bramble hedges, festoons of ivy and 
rank thistles, the bare rock sticking up here and 
there through these. It could not be called a path 
rightly, being scarcely a track, yet Cesario went 
along it without hesitation. 

“ You will get accustomed to places of this sort 
before long,” he said, pointing to the narrow ledge 
round the rock; “keep close to the wall, and if 
your head is not of the strongest, keep your eyes 
there as well.” 

We were at the beginning of the narrow path I 
have described when he finished speaking, and I gave 
two glances at it, before venturing to follow him, 
as he, having slung his gun straight so that it might 
not impede his progress, went fearlessly on to the 
narrow shelf that was hardly wide enough for my 
feet to stand together. On the left hand was a 
precipice smooth as the side of a bottle, without 
a projection from where I stood to the bottom, 
which was many hundreds of feet off. The sun 
came striking against the grey wall, reflecting the 
glare into my face, and on the right side the 
great mountain side went soaring up until its top 
was lost in mist. Two glances then I gave, one at 
the precipice and another at Cesario who had walked 
onwards as unconcernedly as though the road were 
broad as a carriage drive, and then I crept after 


THE NOTARY OF CORTE. 


27 


him, keeping my eyes to my right hand. Step by 
step I went with the rough rock well nigh grazing 
my cheek, so closely I hugged it, and at last reached 
the extremity of the point. The path had crumbled 
away here for a foot or wider, and I had to stretch for- 
ward, giving almost a leap to gain the other side ; but it 
was done before I dared think of the danger, though it 
seemed as if all my breath went into that jump. 

Round the corner of the projection, however, the 
path widened, until it joined the sloping mountain 
again, and Cesario gave a laugh when I joined him. 

“You came round safely, you see,” he exclaimed, 
“ but it needed caution. There would be little risk of 
anyone passing to us, if we were minded to prevent 
them from where we stand. Two brave fellows, who 
were bent on capturing Serafino — you will see him and 
Massoni anon — came to the break in the path no 
longer ago than a month. It was when Serafino 
was bringing home a sheep that he had killed.” 

“ What happened ? ” I asked. 

“It was not much,” he replied, shrugging his 
shoulders ; “ but one of those two brave fellows lies 
below there — unless they have found and buried him 
— and the other may be in Ajaccio still for aught 
I know. He ran that way, Serafino told me. No, 
" I do not think it is by that path my enemies will 
come when they try to capture me, and there is only 
one other which leads to my dwelling-place.” 

When Cesario spoke of a dwelling-place I looked 
round, expecting to see a cottage or hut, but there 


28 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


was nothing save the bare rock, nor trace of any- 
thing of life except our two selves. Great boulders 
that had rolled ages ago from above were strewn 
about, and a wilder, more desolate place I never 
yet had beheld. Up and down went the hard 
stony surface, Cesario leading the way, sometimes 
between great masses of the broken rock which 
gave a welcome shade, and now striding over their 
tops to where far off was a break in the mountain. 
I was tired and faint by this time, and I suppose 
he noticed this, for as we gained another great 
patch of shadow, he flung himself down, bidding 
me to do the same; and then from his sheepskin 
wallet Cesario drew a bottle of wine and some 
bread, which he broke in halves. I was famished 
and ate the bread eagerly, and the wine, which was 
richer than ever Fabiani provided for his household, 
tasted like nectar, bringing strength to my weary 
limbs. Then Cesario bound up my cut shoulder 
again, and when we had eaten I fell fast asleep, 
not waking until the sun was low in the sky and 
the valley had turned black. 

“ Come, Camilla, ” he exclaimed, looking toward 
the break in the mountainside. “We must get to 
my place of refuge before the darkness hides it. 
We are not far away now and if I do not mistake 
that is Serafino’s voice I hear. If Serafino ever gets 
hanged it will be for possessing that voice of his, 
which is more like an ungreased cartwheel than 
anything else,” he added. 


THE NOTARY OF CORTE. 


29 


I listened and heard a droning voice which had 
more strength than sweetness in it, but of the place 
of refuge there was no sign. Nothing but rock 
and rank herbage, growing dim and colourless in 
the waning light, were to be seen, and I went with 
Cesario looking out eagerly for his habitation, wonder- 
ing of what sort it might be, and then suddenly 
we came upon a sight I shall not easily forget. It 
was just as we turned from a great mass of broken 
rock that a ruddy glare was seen and the sound 
of a gruff voice heard, chanting a song of which 
one line rings in my ears now, and was a kind of 
refrain to the song. “Eterna faremo. vendetta,” went 
the words, and then the shrill tone of a shepherd’s 
pipe joined in, playing a quick tune, to which a 
lean figure danced and capered in the glare. 

The fire was burning before the entrance to a 
cave, and over the flaming faggots was a spit with 
a piece of meat roasting. On one side of the 
entrance was a tall man who lay with his elbows 
on the ground, and played the pipe, and on the 
other side sat a short, thickset fellow, with the 
broadest, merriest face imaginable, and he it was 
who was lifting up his rusty voice, that was a roar 
when one came close to him. But it was the third 
figure which attracted my attention most, and Cesario 
burst into a roar of laughter as we stopped, watch- 
ing the scene for a moment. 

The capering fellow was thin and active, dressed 
in black, and having a great bushy wig, whereof 


30 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


the long tail went flying to and fro with every 
movement of his body. His coat skirts fluttered in 
the wind and below them a pair of spindle legs 
twirled and twisted, and as he danced in the fire- 
light, he looked like some great bat hovering in 
the air. The pipe sent out its screeching notes, the 
fat fellow roared his song, and Cesario with a smile 
turned to me. 

“ The notary from Corte, ” he whispered. “ He 
comes to us now and again. Look how Massoni is 
making him dance.” 

The player on the pipe whom he called Massoni 
stopped at this moment, having observed our arrival; 
and the notary giving a final leap, twisted himself, 
facing us. The other, whose name was Serafino, 
got up from the ground and a shout of welcome 
came out of his lusty throat. 

“ I thought you to have been visiting the chief 
magistrate at the least, Cesario, ” he exclaimed, “ so 
long a time have you been away. Who is this 
you have brought with you?” and Serafino put a 
heavy hand on my shoulder. 

“A friend,” replied Cesario. “Call him Camilla, 
Serafino, and get your clumsy hand from his shoulder. 
The lad is wounded.” 

“ Then I will cure him with a remedy that has 
never failed,” replied the other, good-humouredly. 
“ And Massoni shall get supper ready. Two visitors 
in one day, you perceive, Cesario.” 

During this conversation the thin man had stood 


THE NOTARY OF CORTE. 


31 


watching us, with his hands clasped before him, and 
there was a smirking smile on his lean face. 

“ Signor Cesario Arrighi, ” he exclaimed, “ I have 
the pleasure of beholding you once again. I have 
brought hither the papers of which you were in 
need, and all the news that I have gathered since 
we met last.” 

Cesario nodded his head, and spoke aside to 
Massoni, who was kneeling beside the roasting 
meat; whilst the notary addressed me, holding out 
his skeleton-like fingers. 

“ A merry company, ” he said in an undertone, 
giving a sweep of his hand round to the others. 
“ You saw me dancing maybe. It was to please 
Massoni. I would not let my fellow-townsmen know 
of it for fifty florins. But here one may dance” — 
and he gave a cackling little laugh. Then Cesa- 
rio joined us. 

“ I am glad you have come up to us to-day. Sig- 
nor Poli,” he said, “ I have been expecting you this 
week since. You have brought *the sum of money 
that was asked for? ” 

“ I have brought two news sheets no older than 
two and four months respectively,” replied Poli; “I 
have brought you every item of news that my mind 
could remember, and as to the sum of money — I 
could get no more than half the hundred florins you 
required — not so much as a soldo more.” 

“ That was the story you told us when last you 
came,” exclaimed Massoni from his place by the 


32 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


spit. “You recollect how your memory grew when 
I held your lean body over the fire.” 

The notary gave a shudder, and began rubbing his 
calves, whereupon Serafino burst into a roaring laugh. 

“ Look you here, Signor Poli — otherwise called 
Angellone'^ by your townsmen,” exclaimed Cesario; 
“a hundred florins I told you to bring, and a hun- 
dred florins I expect to receive.” 

“ Signor Arrighi, ” whined the notary, “ if you could 
but believe the danger and difficulty of collecting 
the taglioy ^ you would pity me. I have dogs set 
on me when I approach one house; I have a nest 
of vipers suddenly hissing at me from another — that 
is the one where Madame Clementina and her seven 
serving maidens reside; at the chief money-lender’s 
in Corte, when I asked civilly for his contributions, 
I was like to be spitted as the meat yonder, by a 
dagger which he hurled at me, and finally, when I 
ventured into the laundry of the Frenchwoman 
Celeste Daubeny, a strapping wench from Gascony 
seized me in her grasp and flung me into a great 
trough of boiling soap-suds, as though I had been 
a piece of foul linen. And you ask me for a hundred 
florins, from such a desperate set of misers as those 
I have described.” 

“An excellent story,” replied Cesario calmly; “if 
one believed it. And now tell me — has the money 

* A name signifying, “ Evil bir.l.” 

* The blackmail levied by the banditti on the richer people in a 
town. 


THE NOTARY OF CORTE. 33 

I promised been given to the widow Paolina?” 

“Without doubt,” answered the notary, beginning 
to hum thoughtfully and then, stopping himself 
abruptly. “ Without doubt — that is to say the widow 
Paolina would have had the money, but being in 
the last extremity of a fever I thought it wise 
to refrain from bestowing your gift on her, until 
she recovered sufficiently to thank you;” and he 
began humming again. 

Cesario gave the notary a shrewd look, and then 
beckoned to Serafino and Massoni. 

“ Signor Poli,” he said, “ is becoming chilled by 
the night air. He must warm himself” And at 
this his two companions made a movement toward 
the notary who drew back from their approach. 
It was useless to attempt to escape however, for 
Cesario and the others forced him to take his stand 
with the back of his legs to the fire, which Mas- 
soni stirred into a brisk blaze. Here they kept 
him at the point of their daggers, so that he was 
prevented from stirring, and it was not long before 
Signor Poli began dancing again. 

It was a sight that I could not refrain from 
laughing at. There stood the notary, afraid to move 
because of the daggers pointing at him, and each 
moment becoming warmer at that part which was 
exposed to the fire. The bright light showed off 
the faces of the bandits and their uncouth dress of 
skins, Massoni’s eyes glistening with a steady look, 
and Serafino’s broad, good-humoured features redden- 

3 


34 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


ing to a deeper shade in the blaze. Cesario remained 
opposite Signor Poli, with his arm outstretched, so 
that his dagger’s point was almost touching the 
unfortunate notary’s breast. Behind the fire, the 
entrance to the cave made a large black patch 
against which the group stood out vividly. 

There was a solemn silence for the space of a 
minute perhaps, and then the notary gave a howl 
which died away in a long echo. 

“ Signor Arrighi, ” he exclaimed ; “ there is already 
the smell of roasting cloth at my back, and the feel- 
ing as of a dog’s teeth in my legs. Massoni — 
gentle Signor Massoni — is this the return for all the 
services I have rendered you? Think of the time 
when I brought you the intelligence that you were 
to be hanged?” 

“Aye, I recollect,” replied Massoni. “There is 
someone to whom I owe a reward. He who betrayed 
my being at Corte to pay a dutiful visit to the 
third wife of my dead grandfather.” 

“ Who would have bequeathed you her money, ” 
put in Serafino, “ which indeed was yours by right 
of inheritance ; ” and then a laugh went round, 
although I cannot give a reason for it, and the 
notary fell kneeling. 

“Good gentlemen,” he implored, “if it is for a 
trifling matter of a few ducats that I am being fried 
like a chicken, I will pay the sum. Noble Cesario, 
I have seventy-five florins in my pocket — let me go 
or they will be melted.” 



His dagger’s point was almost touching the notary’s breast. 

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I 




THE NOTARY OF CORTE. 


35 


“ I said one hundred,” replied Cesario. “You may 
have the other twenty-five, perchance?” 

“ This is a fire that Saint Vitus himself would 
have shrunk from!” yelled the miserable victim. 
“ I am in torments — let me go 1 ” 

“You can go,” answered Cesario, “when you 
have found those twenty-five florins.” 

“You may search me,” shrieked the other, “but 
will not find them.” 

“ But you can tell me where they may be found, ” 
said Serafino playfully. “ Hasten too, for I am 
wanting my supper, and a roasted notary has an 
odour worse than carrion.” 

“ The florins are beneath a stone not ten yards 
away, ” moaned the wretched man, as he began 
crawling from the fire. Nobody hindered him, but 
Massoni went to the spot which Poll had pointed 
out, and there found the missing coins. These and 
those in the notary’s pocket made up the sum that 
had been demanded, and was divided equally among 
the three bandits. 

“ One word in your ear. Signor Poli, ” said Cesario, 
looking down at his victim who was rubbing his 
scorched legs dolefully. “You know how warm 
our fire is — this is your second taste of it. See 
that the widow has every soldo of the money I sent her, 
or you shall sit on the fire when I catch you.” 

The notary gave a wriggle of pain, as he knelt, 
rocking himself to and fro, and then Cesario and 
the rest sat down to supper which Serafino served 


36 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


deftly. By and by Poll came crawling up to us, 
and Massoni, clapping him on the back, held out a 
brimming pannikin of wine, which was drunk off 
by the notary with a gurgle of satisfaction. Then 
he became friendly, laughing and chattering with the 
best of them; but now and again I saw him cast 
such a look of vindictive rage at Cesario, that I 
understood the reason why Signor Poli was called 
Angellone by his fellow-townsmen. 

He became very talkative with me, however, in- 
quiring my name and the reason for my taking to 
the mountains, and to all his questions I gave him 
a plain, truthful answer. I had nothing to disguise, 
so before the notary left us that night he knew all 
I knew of myself and my cousin Fabiani Brasco. 
He made no remarks on the short history, but shook 
me by the hand when he departed down a narrow 
path on his way to Corte. Cesario bade him not 
forget the advice he had given him respecting the 
money to the widow Paolina, and then into the 
darkness went our visitor. 

Cesario kept me talking for some time after the 
two others had emptied the cave, and he explained 
the reason for Signor Poli coming up to us. 

“ There are many things in which I find the notary 
useful, ” said Cesario. “ He gives us information and 
brings the money that we require— he is a great 
thief, and would keep full half the sum, did we not 
treat him as he deserves— that is the second time 
he tried to cheat.” 


THE NOTARY OF CORTE. 


37 


“But supposing the notary refused to come to 
you?” I asked. 

“Then maybe the notary would be found one 
morning with his throat slit,” replied Cesario placidly, 
“and the money-lender’s house might be burned, 
or a dozen other things happen. But why talk of 
these things ? ” And Cesario shrugged his shoulders, 
getting up from the ground with a yawn and went 
into the cave. 

It was a great roomy place, having depths of 
black shadow, into which the light from a lantern 
that hung upon the wall, could not penetrate. Guns 
and other weapons were in abundance, and in a 
nook lay Serafino snoring loudly. Massoni was 
sitting close by the entrance, keeping a watch against 
a surprise, that might come at the most unexpected 
moment for what we knew; and Cesario pointing 
to a thick bed of straw, that had a gaudy blanket 
lying on it, bid me lie down. I needed no second 
order, being tired and sleepy, and with a dim re- 
collection of a roasting notary I sank into a deep 
slumber. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE THREE BANDITS. 

B efore a week had gone by, the wound in 
my shoulder was healed, and I had become 
so accustomed to my new life, that it seemed 
as though I had never known any other. And 
more than this, Cesario Arrighi and his comrades 
Serafino and Massoni were already like old friends 
to me, proving themselves generous, light-hearted 
companions, without any particular care for the 
future. They had fled from justice and might be 
slain with impunity if discovered and arrested, but 
these were events very unlikely to happen, for three 
braver men never lived than they, nor any who were 
better able to defend their lives. Their bravery had 
been tried more than once, Seraflno telling me the 
story without a trace of boastful ness, how he had fought 
the gendarmes who had been sent to capture him, 
and how Massoni kept the mountain pass secure, 
when Cesario lay ill a year ago. I did not hear the 
story at once, but piece by piece as it were, when we 
all sat in the warmth of the blazing fire of an evening, 
amid the everlasting silence of the mountains. 

38 


THE THREE BANDITS. 


39 


Cesario told me that Massoni’s father had been 
unjustly condemned to the galleys, and that his 
enemies had triumphed. There was no redress, nor 
hope of obtaining' his father’s release, and Massoni 
vowed vengeance upon those who had brought 
rum and shame on his family. Time went by and 
at last his opportunity came. It was the day when 
his father’s bitterest enemy — he who had sworn 
falsely against him — was entertaining a number of 
friends, and Massoni, entering the house, denounced 
the man before the assembled company, challenging 
him to a duel. 

“ It would have been easier to have shot his 
enemy, ” said Cesario, “ but Massoni scorned to do 
that without preparing him, so he offered him the 
duello. Thereupon the fellow, brave enough, having 
companions with him at the moment, and being a well- 
to-do man, whilst Massoni had no more worldly 
goods than his gun and a coat with a dozen silver 
buttons on it, called to his friends to throw the 
intruder out of the house. This enraged Massoni.” 

I gave a glance at Massoni who lay in the 
entrance to the cave, Cesario and I being beside 
the fire, a little way from him, and marked his 
stern face, which few would care to encounter when 
it was fury-lit. 

“I cannot tell you what ensued immediately,” 
continued Cesario, “ but the end of the matter was, 
that his enemy never brought false witness against 
any more unfortunate people, but lay dead within 


40 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


a few moments, and two of his friends with him. 
Massoni is a very lion when there is fighting to be 
done, you must understand. He fled to the fnacchia 
when he had subdued his foes.” 

“ And how came Serafino to turn bandit ? ” I 
asked, after a little pause in our talk. 

“ Serafino, ” answered Cesario, thoughtfully, a little 
twinkling laugh coming into his eyes, “was to be 
married to the only child of a miserly fellow in 
Bando. Serafino declares her to have been the most 
beautiful girl in Corsica, and an angel moreover, 
which I rather doubt. In Bando was another lover, 
who agreed with Serafino’s opinions, I suppose, 
and between these two there was a fiery jealousy — 
it was the fault of the girl that led to a quarrel 
between her two suitors, and Serafino going quietly 
along the road one day, was shot at, and two ot 
his fingers went flying from his hand. No slight 
thing this, you will agree, and the more to be 
angered at when the man who had fired the shot, 
meaning to take Serafino’s life, for there was no 
secrecy about the attack — the fellow had openly 
declared his enmity — when the man I say, had won 
the girl for his bride, whilst Serafino was mending 
of the wound. The wedding guests were dancing 
merrily when Serafino shot the bridegroom through 
the heart. He is an excellent marksman, for all 
that two fingers are missing from his left hand.” 

. Serafino was absent when Cesario told me the 
story, and upon his return I watched him with a 


THE THREE BANDITS. 


4 


new interest. He was a merry-hearted man, of 
stout build and careless of everything in the world. 
His share of the taglia was more often than not 
given away in charity, through the notary, for 
Serafino had neither kinsman nor friend in need of 
money. He had, as I have already told, a broad, 
good-humoured face, and the voice of a screech-owl 
when he sang, but it could send out the roar of a 
bull when raised. He told the strangest stories and 
the most laughable ones ever heard, making a joke 
of the law which he said should never come nearer 
to him than the length of a gun-barrel off. 

I shall never forget those days I spent in the 
mountains, nor the evenings in which we used to 
sit round the blazing fire, when I forgot the dangers 
that beset my comrades and the certain fate which 
awaited them when they should be captured. What 
a cosy dwelling the cave made ; cool at the hottest 
part of the day, and warm when the driving mists 
and heavy dews were upon the desolate region. 
There was always plenty to eat and good wine 
enough, whilst beside these, there was rich booty 
to be gained, and this neither Cesario nor his two 
companions scorned. Far in the cave was a spot, 
cleverly concealed, which Cesario showed me, and 
where lay some glittering trinkets. 

“ They belong to a Genoese, ” he said, “ who has 
molested and oppressed our countrymen without 
hindrance until Massoni and I chanced upon him 
some months ago. A pitiful fellow whom we were 


42 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


satisfied in flogging, after we had emptied his 
carriage of those baubles. He had a guard too,” 
and Cesario laughed in his quiet way, as if remem- 
bering something when he told me this. 

The cave was our principal hiding-place, but there 
were many others if occasion had required their 
use. Deepshaded forests which had never heard the 
woodman’s axe, dense thickets of shrubby oaks, 
albratro and myrtle, that covered the slopes of the 
mountains; and dark ravines, down which tumbled 
roaring silvery streams ; amid these not all the shirri, 
nor gendarmes in Corsica could have traced us, 
and it was amongst such surroundings as these that 
Cesario Arrighi nursed the vengeance he had sworn 
against Fabiani Brasco and his kindred. 

One afternoon the notary came up the mountain 
on another visit. He had some important news to 
tell Cesario, so he said, and seemed to have forgotten 
and forgiven the treatment he had received on the 
last occasion of his coming. He chatted and laughed, 
and showed a new pair of stockings he wore, for 
the others he told us, were so scorched, that they 
were past all mending when he reached home. 

“ Then you should keep the remains to remind 
you what is likely to happen if you deceive us 
again,” said Cesario in his grim,, quiet way. “For 
look you. Signor Poll, I shall not be content in 
only warming you if you are treacherous.” 

The notary giggled, but it was plain that he felt 
uneasy in his mind. 


THE THREE BANDITS. 


43 


“Treachery,” quoth he, “that is a hard word, 
Signor Arrighi, and the last you should address 
to me. Remember what I have done in the past, 
and imagine what I am going to do in the future 
for you.” 

Cesario made no answer but sat regarding the 
notary with a thoughtful look that was not pleasant, 
to Signor Poli, for he fidgeted and turned his 
face aside. 

“When one calls to mind all the troubles that 
beset them in Corte, ” he said, “ it makes one envy 
the peace and the ease of your lives up here. There 
are no tax-gatherers, no prying neighbours, no 
gossips to take the good name from an innocent 
man. You will continue here. Signor Arrighi, 
until ” 

“ Until it pleases us to move to another spot, ” 
replied Cesario, “ or until — but you understand what 
will drive us away!” 

“ Truly, ” answered the notary, “ but the shirri 
might as well pursue a sunbeam as you — there is 
no fear of their making trouble.” 

They chatted on for some little time, and then 
Massoni began playing his shrill pipe, ordering the 
notary to dance. It was a simple, harmless jest, 
this of making the lean fellow caper, but there was 
such a sameness in our life that even the notary’s 
antics pleased us. But what helpless rage there 
was in the man’s face, as Massoni played faster and 
faster; what a laughable figure he presented with 


44 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


his great flaxen wig twisted awry, and his black 
skirts flapping like the wings of a dying vulture in 
the fire gleam. And Massoni played until the 
notary could dance no longer, but tumbled breath- 
less on the hard rock, praying for a respite. Serafino 
and Massoni enjoyed the sport as boys might have 
done, but Cesario was silent, and presently he drew 
me aside. 

“ I have heard something from Signor Poli this 
evening, ” he said, “ and would have you take a mes- 
sage in Ajaccio to-morrow, Camilla. Will you go?” 

I agreed gladly enough, for the solitude of the 
mountains had dulled my spirits, and I had never 
been into Ajaccio, so that the prospect of doing so 
now pleased me highly. 

“It is to see Emanuel Matra,” went on Cesario, 
“ to take a letter to him — ask of Fabiani Brasco 
when you have told Emanuel your name.” 

I promised to do as Cesario directed me, and we 
went back to the others. Our evening meal had 
been prepared, and there was not one of us who 
enjoyed it more than the notary. His good humour 
was quite unusual, and it was late before he departed 
down the steep path which he trod gaily, giving 
a farewell skip before disappearing into the forest 
below. 

I watched his going and then, full of my errand 
for to-morrow, went into the cave and was soon 
forgetful of everything. 


CHAPTER VL 

WHAT NASONE TOLD ME. 

I T was a glittering morning when with Cesario 
to guide me as far as the direct road leading 
to Ajaccio began, he and I went down the 
steep path from the cave, Serafino standing upon a 
point of rock, waving his red cap as a sort of fare- 
well to me, although I was to return next day. 
I could see his big body for a long time clearly 
marked on the blue sky behind him, but presently 
we were in the thick of the trees, and Cesario 
keeping a keen watch on either hand, added to the 
directions he had given me overnight, by describing 
the manner in which I should find Nasone’s house 
easily. To him I was to deliver the letter and 
parcel of trinkets, that Cesario had prepared, and 
to bring back something which Nasone would give 
me for his kinsman. 

It was a long way down the valley through which 
went the narrow path, leading on one side to Corte, 
and on the other to the main road to Ajaccio. This 
latter, Cesario said, I should not easily mistake, and 
it would be wise if I asked neither for direction nor 


45 


46 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


information from any wayfarers I might chance to 
meet or pass. 

“Above all,” he continued, “beware of your re- 
latives Fabiani and his son. Keep away from where 
the trees grow thickly by the roadside, and where 
a rock may hide an enemy. You might have Poli, the 
notary, cross your path — beware of him also.” 

“But he is very friendly with us,” I replied, sur 
prised at Cesario’s warning. 

“ It is better to be over-cautious than over-confi- 
dent,” he answered, “ Signor Poli has a curious 
method of showing friendship, if all the stories told 
of him be true, and therefore I bid you beware of 
him.” 

We had gained the point which Cesario told me 
it would be dangerous for him to pass, and here 
we parted. The little town of Corte was plainly 
visible through the trees, lying as it were against 
the foot of a steep hill, that was crowned by a 
frowning castle, and turning my face from this, I 
set out on my long walk to Ajaccio. Cesario had 
disappeared, and I was alone with nothing beyond 
the directions he had given to guide me to my 
destination, but stepping out with a good pace, I 
resolved to reach the town before darkness set in, 
the warnings I had received hastening me. 

It was not until sunset, however, that I came 
footsore and weary in sight of Ajaccio, and night 
had fallen by the time Nasone’s house was found, 
a curious place, which, in spite of Cesario’s directions, 


WHAT NASONE TOLD ME. 


47 


unless a kindly fellow, returning homeward from 
his day’s coral-gathering, had shown it me, I should 
never have discovered. Nasone was well-known it 
seemed, and I remember the fisherman’s laugh at 
Reari ng of my paying Nasone a visit, “ For,” said 
he, “ you must know, that there is nothing less to 
the old fellow’s liking than to be disturbed after 
nightfall. They say he deals in the black art, and 
can raise a spirit as easily as another man could 
recite an Ave Maria,'' 

I wished it had been daylight when my guide 
told me this, or that Cesario had sent someone else 
to visit his relative, yet having coriie so far, and 
being moreover very tired, I resolved not to delay 
in my errand, but to perform it as speedily as 
possible, and being now at the very doorway of 
Nasone’s house, I thanked my friendly guide, who 
departed down a narrow alley, and then with a 
quick jerk, rang a great bell which jangled and 
growled for a good two minutes after I had disturbed 
it. Presently I heard the sound of shuffling feet 
from within, and the next moment the door opened 
just wide enough for me to see a face which it re- 
quired no telling was the face of Emanuel Matra. 

“ This is a late hour, ” he growled, “ who are you 
and what is your business?” 

I gave him an answer that brought the door a 
foot or two wider instantly. 

“From Cesario Arrighi?” cried Nasone, altering 
his tone. “Then come in quickly — cast a glance 


48 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


around before I bolt the door, and be certain none 
have seen you come here.” 

I gave a look up and down the narrow street, 
and then Nasone had wellnigh dragged me into 
the passage, shutting the door with a gentle hand, 
and bolting it as though the treasures of Genoa 
were hidden behind it. 

“ The greatest comfort of a lonely man’s, life, ” 
he whispered in my ear as we went up a winding 
staircase, “ is to remember the locks and strength 
of the bolts on his house-door. Aye, and the 
thickness of the door itself, that no bullet can ever 
get through. Especially in such a case as mine, 
which is that of a silversmith, as may be seen by 
anyone, so soon as honest daylight comes.” 

Up the winding staircase we went, Nasone’s face 
making a great shadow on the grimy wall, and at 
length reached a room where burnt a fire, a great 
dog lying before it, that came fiercely at me as I 
entered, but lay down again at a word from his 
master. On one side of this room was a coffer, 
bound and strapped with iron, and for the rest the 
place was comfortable enough, and lighted by a 
curiously shaped lamp, hanging from the ceiling. 

Nasone read the letter I had brought, and when 
he finished it, looked hard at me from beneath his 
bushy eyebrows, as he took the parcel of trinkets 
I had brought. 

“ Cesario says that your name is Camilla Negroni,” 
he said, “and that you are the son of my old 


WHAT NASONE TOLD ME. 


49 


friend Negroni of Bastia. You have been living 
with Fabiani Brasco?” 

“ Ever since my father’s death, ” I answered, “ and 
this is the first time I have ever visited Ajaccio.” 

Nasone gave a little nod, beginning to unfasten 
the strap of the parcel and examining the contents 
which were Cesario’s share of the things I had seen 
in the cave. 

When this had been done, they were put away 
in the ironbound coffer, after which Nasone brought 
some food from a cupboard, and filled a great 
silver flagon with wine. I was hungry and worn- 
out with my long walk, and it was not until my 
supper was eaten that Nasone spoke again. 

“Has your cousin Fabiani,” he began abruptly, 
looking at the fire the while he spoke, “ ever told 
you that your father was a well-to-do man, and you 
will be rich one day, Camilla ? ” 

“ I know that my father possessed some wealth, ” 
I answered. “ Paulina, our servant, told me that ; 
Fabiani never spoke of it.” 

“ He was not likely to, ” continued Nasone, “ for 
Fabiani has reasons doubtless for not speaking. 
He has seized all your dead father’s property, hold- 
ing it as his own by the aid of a certain notary, 
named Poli, who lives at Corte.” 

“Signor Poli!” I exclaimed. “Why, he is the 
man who comes up the mountains to us. Cesario 
burnt his legs only the other evening.” 

“I think he will do more than that one day,” 

4 


50 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

replied Nasone. “ Cesario is slow to speak, but 
when the humour takes him to do a thing — well, 
it’s as good as done. He vows to take Fabiani’s 
life, and depend upon it he will do so. Signor 
Poli — yes, Cesario gave him a taste of punishment, 
yet it was not half enough. Poli is the greatest 
rascal in Corsica. Moreover he is in league with 
Fabiani to deprive you of your money, my lad, 
and it only needs you to die, for your cousin to 
enjoy it in peace. But that shall not be if I have 
any power to hinder him. How came you to leave 
his house?” 

I told him the story of my saving Cesario’s life, and 
how Teodor and I had quarrelled and fought. 

“It was a planned quarrel,” said Nasone after I 
had finished, “ it was meant that Teodor should 
kill you.” 

My face flushed with anger against my cousin 
and his son as Nasone told me this; for that he 
spoke the truth was without doubt. He and Fabiani 
were well known to each other, for my cousin, I 
learnt, had borrowed money many times from him. 
The visit to Ajaccio Fabiani had planned, but which 
Cesario had prevented, was for that purpose, and 
the notary also was a visitor to the silversmith’s 
house. 

Nasone pondered a long time after telling me 
this, and at last a plan formed itself in his mind 
I suppose, by which the plot against me might be 
frustrated. He said that I must return home, and 


WHAT NASONE TOLD ME. 


5 


treat my cousin as if I knew nothing of his treach- 
ery, and that meantime, he, Nasone, would set to 
work in order to protect my rights. 

“ I know a man here, ” said he, “ who is as honest 
as anyone in Corsica; and we will prepare at once 
to prevent any further wrong being done you. You 
have saved the life of my kinsman, and though it 
were ten times harder to punish Fabiani than I think 
it will be, yet I will do it out of my gratitude 
to you.” 

There was a kindliness and sincerity in his voice 
that made me put trust in him, which time was 
to prove wise or the reverse, and I promised to 
be guided by the directions he gave me. I would 
return to Fabiani’s house, saying nothing of the 
events which had driven me away from it, nor of 
the manner of my living since going. Meanwhile 
Nasone would begin the management of my affairs, 
and I was to visit him again at the first opportunity. 
Firstly however, I must go back to Cesario, and 
that without delay, taking with me the promised 
reply to his letter. 

When all these things had been decided the time 
was long past midnight. Nasone brought a bed 
from out the cupboard — that great opening seemed 
to hold a multitude of articles, I recollect — and 
putting this before the fire that was burning low 
now, he bade me go to rest on it. Then he and 
his dog went to another part of the house, where 
I could hear him moving about for a long time, 


52 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


and I fell to thinking over the strange information 
I had gained. I was eager to see my cousin, and 
would have liked nothing better than to have de- 
nounced him for his treatment of me ; but that could 
not be done yet. Nasone said that Fabiani was a 
shrewd, designing fellow, and a difficult one to match 
for villainy — if Cesario had not besieged him, and 
thus hindered his plan, worse might have happened 
to me than had already. 

The dawn had scarcely come when I got up from 
the bed. Nasone was already stirring, and having 
eaten breakfast I started upon my return to Cesario, 
Nasone going with me for some distance in order 
to show a nearer way to the mountains than I had 
traversed overnight. It would shorten my journey 
by an hour or two, and it was by reason of this 
that I gained the parting way in full daylight, where 
Cesario and I had separated yesterday. Through 
the silent valley I went, and came at last to the 
ascent, expecting at every step to meet one of my 
companions; but the path was silent, and up it I 
passed, going over in my mind again the things 
which Nasone had told me. 

So engrossed was I in my thoughts that I reached 
the clear space from whence the winding road led 
to the cave, and the jutting rocks that gave such 
a wild and desolate look to the view, could be plainly 
seen, without heeding the end of my toilsome jour- 
ney, and then suddenly I was brought back to my 
senses by the sight of some black figures creeping 


WHAT NASONE TOLD ME. 


53 


cautiously upward not a hundred yards in front of 
me. That they were neither of my companions was 
seen at a glance, and also that the strangers were 
armed and clothed in the same manner as some 
soldiers I had passed in Ajaccio. There were six 
of them dotting the grey rocks, and one had reached 
a projecting point from which the cave might have 
been discovered. Drawing back into the shadow of 
a tree, I watched the man with breathless interest, 
as he clung like a large lizard to the rock, lifting 
himself higher and higher until at length his head 
and shoulders were above the summit. For a moment 
he remained thus, and I saw him making a signal 
to those below him, and then suddenly, startling 
every echo in the silent region, the report of a gun 
rang out; the figure upon the rock threw up his 
arms wildly, there was a scream, and down like a 
dead bird through the boughs dropned the man 
with a crash, almost at my feet. 


CHAPTER VIL 


THE ATTACK ON THE CAVE. 

F or a moment or two I remained in indecision. 
It was plain that Cesario and his companions 
were on the point of being attacked, and the 
thought of their capture filled me with despair; 
but it was plain also that they had taken the alarm 
and were already defending themselves. Massoni 
must have been on the watch, and his eyes, keen as 
an eagle’s, had seen that cautious head which raised 
itself above the rock for a moment only, yet long 
enough for Massoni’s bullet to go through it. 

There were five of the shirri ^ still left against 
the three bandits, however, and there might be 
others to join in the attack on the cave. I must 
gain my companions without delay, and without 
being discovered, moreover, and the remembrance 
came like a flash to my mind of a winding path which 
Cesario had shown me a day or two since, that 
led to the cave and was safe from observation. I 
was not far from the place where this path began, 
and creeping under the thickets I quickly reached it. 
* Gendarmes. 

54 


THE ATTACK ON THE CAVE. 


55 


Only in cases of great need would anyone have 
chosen that way, for it went round a rock without 
so much foothold as the other dangerous pass I 
have mentioned, but the ivy grew so thickly against 
the rough surface as to serve the purpose of a 
ladder. To this I clung, moving my feet carefully 
onward, disturbing the birds which had gone to 
roost an hour ago, and bringing them about me 
with fierce cries; but I gave no thought to them. 
There was other danger to be encountered beside 
that perilous climb amid the ivy branches, and in a 
short time I had gained firm p-round and was 
speeding toward the cave. 

From the little eminence at which I arrived 
Cesario and his two companions were seen, and I 
raised a cry of warning; Serafino, without moving, 
answered me, and the next instant I was beside 
him, whilst Cesario dragged himself to us, his face 
stern and set. 

“The enemy is upon us,” he whispered. “Speak 
softly, Camilla. Have you seen the shirri?^ 

“ There were six whom I saw at the first. Now 
there are only five. But they are close at hand,” 
I replied. 

Massoni who was stretched out, holding his gun 
aimed, laughed as he heard me say this. “ They 
should be more careful in showing their heads. 
Five left you tell us” — and he fixed his gaze on 
the point again where the man had fallen, Cesario 
and Serafino drawing closer to the mouth of tjie 


56 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


cave than they had been when I joined them. 
There was very little said, and I quickly armed 
myself, throwing a look at the interior of the oave, 
where far back burnt our lantern, and then joined 
Cesario who with Serafino at a little distance 
away was guarding the entrance to our retreat; 
Massoni had not moved, and thus we waited for 
the attack. 

“ The saints send me a head over yonder rock 
speedily,” laughed Serafino softly, “or the whole 
shape of a man, so that I can pull a trigger on him. 
I am longing for the sight of an enemy, and if it 
come to dagger-play, Cesario, and may I never sing 
again, or there shall be one gendarme the less in 
Corsica before I die.” 

Cesario made no reply, but his finger was at his 
gunlock, and a bullet went whizzing against some- 
thing in the distance. 

“Ill aimed, camerado — it should be thus,” and 
Serafino fired, whereupon something black flew in 
the air, and all was silent again, when suddenly 
Massoni sprang down from his position, calling us 
to follow him, for with a shout the shirri were at 
hand — five of them on the broad space before the 
mouth of the cave. How they had reached this I 
cannot say, but that they knew the intricate paths 
as well as we did was evident, and the next instant 
a desperate fight began. Dropping his gun, for at 
close quarters it was but a hindrance, Massoni had 
drawn his stiletto, singling out a brawny fellow from 


THE ATTACK ON THE CAVE. 


57 


the rest of the gendarmes, skilfully drawing him 
away from the main battle, leaving Cesario, Serafino 
and myself to engage the remaining four men. I 
could hear Massoni and his antagonist in fierce 
conflict, but there was no time to look their way; 
Serafino was swinging the butt of his gun like a 
thrashing flail, and back to back against each other 
he and I had work enough and more to keep off 
our foes. Now and again I saw Cesario fighting 
bravely, but it was only a momentary glimpse. 

A,nd in this manner for the space of some minutes 
did the fight continue, when suddenly Serafino had 
seized his opponent, forcing him to the ground and 
kneeling beside him. I had been pressed back against 
my companion, a sword point being within touch 
of my neck, but losing his support I fell backward. 
That saved my life, for my enemy stumbling after 
me, met my stiletto that went straight into his 
breast, and he gave a gurgle, as he came headlong 
to stillness. 

I was on my feet again in an instant, and saw 
Serafino lifting his enemy’s head a foot or so, bring- 
ing it down on the rocky ground, and heard the 
man’s skull thud dully. Twice was this done, and 
Serafino holding the insensible body in his arms, 
moved to the edge of the descent and hurled it 
into the black depths. The fight was over by that 
time, for Cesario’s antagonist had fled, leaving a 
thick trail of blood to show the way he ran, and 
Massoni, panting, and bespattered with great crimson 


58 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


stains, was standing over the dead body of a gen- 
darme. His rage, not quenched yet, although he 
had been victorious in the deadly encounter, pre- 
vented him from speaking, and I saw that he was 
badly hurt. But of that he was regardless, treating 
the wound as though it were nothing when 
Serafino stooped to bind it. Cesario also was 
hurt, being almost past the power of moving, and 
I had a cut across my arm. But we had won the 
battle, and Serafino lifted up his voice with such 
a shout of rejoicing that it might have been heard 
at Corte. 

Short work was made of the two dead men, 
whose bodies were cast over the edge of the rock, 
and then we entered the cave. There was no ruddy 
fire set burning that night, no merry talk, nor the 
sound of Massoni’s pipe, but we were busy in patch- 
ing up our various hurts. Serafino had escaped free 
from the slightest wound, and I think he felt ashamed 
of his good fortune, for he made excuses for it. 

“ If I had given the fellow longer time to consider 
he would have driven his knife into me, I have no 
doubt,” said he, going with a pannikin of blood-dyed 
water to the entrance of the cave ; “ but when an 
enemy’s thick skull is within one’s grasp, one must 
act quickly. I am perplexed in thinking what reason 
the shirri had in disturbing us. If it was that 
Genoese who raised the turmoil — we have done 
nothing worse than he and his cut-throat country- 
men have done many a time, nay, not half so much 


THE ATTACK ON THE CAVE. 


59 


harm as Felix Pinelli of Bastia has done — I hope I 
may meet him anon.” 

“We have only seen the beginning of our trouble,” 
replied Cesario, who sat nursing a wounded hand; 
“for mark me, that we shall have a stronger force 
sent against us, so soon as that fellow reaches 
Corte — he who escaped me.” 

“ And why should he go to Corte ? ” asked Sera- 
fino. “He and his dead friends may have come 
from Ajaccio, or Calvi, or even from Saint Florent — 
who can tell? One thing alone I am content to 
know, which is that wherever they came from, five 
of the six will never return to it. How say you, 
Massoni?” 

“ It matters nothing where they came from,” 
replied Massoni, “ and I am of Cesario’s opinion 
that we are likely to be further molested.” 

“We shall be safer if we move to another part,” 
said Cesario ; “ although I know of none that pro- 
mises greater security than this does.” 

“I am against moving,” answered Serafino. “I 
am at home here, and have an acquaintance or two 
in Corte who would miss my society sadly if I 
leave this neighbourhood. There is Stefano of the vine- 
covered inn — it stands within astone’s throw of the 
castle — Stefano who greets me like a brother whenever 
I chance at his house. I am almost inclined to go 
there this night, for never yet were you and Massoni 
duller than now,” said Serafino recklessly. 

The saints forbid that you ever sing whilst 


6o 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


Stefano’s house has guests in it,” retorted Massoni, 
“ or that the guard at the castle are on the watch.” 

“ I never give a thought as to who may be in 
hearing,” laughed Serafino good-humouredly; “and 
Stefano always gives me cheerful welcome. There 
I meet with the one-eyed cobbler, who regards me 
reverently, and sometimes there are strangers.” 

“You had best stay here to-night,” said Cesario, 
“ and leave Stefano’s house in peace. I tell you 
this attempt to capture us is likely to be repeated, 
and that before long. I have a suspicion as to the 
one who has set it afoot.” 

“That lank-jawed notary,” exclaimed Serafino 
excitedly. “I had my doubts of him the last time 
we singed his legs.” 

“He and Fabiani Brasco,” replied Cesario, giving 
a glance toward me. “ Your cousin has a purpose 
in view,” he added. 

When Cesario said this, the story that Nasone 
had told me, came back to my mind suddenly. I 
had forgotten it until that moment, for the events 
which had happened since rejoining my companions 
were more than sufficient to banish it from my 
memory. I drew the letter which Nasone had given 
me for Cesario from my pocket, and handed it to 
him. He read it slowly, and after this I told him 
the rest of what Nasone had said, so far as I could 
remember. 

“This makes it clear to the that Fabiani is set 
on your destruction, my lad,” answered Cesario. 


THE ATTACK ON THE CAVE. 6 1 

“ For if so be that you are captured with us, you 
will share our fate and be hanged with us. Now 
I see the reason Signor Poli had in his friendliness — 
he and your cousin are leagued together, and 
therefore we will get away from this spot to a 
safer one.” 

“ If it is as you tell us, Cesario, ” exclaimed Sera- 
fino, “ I will take such a tribute of that leather- 
featured notary as shall never be forgotten.” 

“And he shall dance to a different tune from 
any I ever piped to him, when next I set eyes on 
him,” said Massoni. 

I suppose we were too weary to talk much further 
that evening, and when Serafino had brought each 
of us some food, we lay down. Massoni dragged 
a heap of straw to the mouth of the cave, and for 
all his smarting wounds kept watch until Serafino 
took his place. The night was still — not a rustling 
leaf disturbing the solemn quietude, as I looked out 
into the black space fronting our hiding-place that 
had been so short a time before the scene of bloodshed 
and death. Then I came and sat down with Cesa- 
rio, talking with him of the story Nasone had told 
me, and thus amid the dead silence of the mountains 
the time sped away. 

I suppose I had fallen asleep, for I gave a 
great start, and sat rubbing my eyes when the grip 
of a hand on my shoulder roused me, to find Sera- 
fino’s face close to mine in the light of the lantern. 
I could distinguish Cesario and Massoni crouching 


62 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


at the mouth of the cave, and there was the grey 
of the dawn in the sky, although as yet it was dark 
where I had been lying. 

“ Cesario is a prophet, ” whispered Serafino. “He 
foretold this second attack on us, and we are trapped 
like rats. How many of the enemy are at this 
instant before the entrance, hovering like vultures, I 
cannot say, but enough to keep us prisoners.” 

I was on my feet by this time, looking at his 
ruddy face which had no trace of fear in it, but 
was merrier than ordinarily, and at that instant 
Massoni sent a shot flying. There was a faint cry 
from the distance, and then the dead silence fell 
again, and I joined Cesario. 

There was no need to ask questions, nor for 
Cesario to give an explanation of what had happened. 
We were, as Serafino said, caught like rats in a 
trap, for a strong body of shirri had gained the 
neighbourhood of the cave, and it would be certain 
death to any of us who ventured out of shelter. 
The entrance was low — one had to stoop in passing 
into the cave, and was not wider than four or five 
paces, but within it widened, so that standing behind 
the jagged rocks that formed so to say the door 
posts of the entrance, it was both safe and easy to 
see for a good distance each way outside. It was 
from here that the enemy’s approach had been dis- 
covered, and as though we were in a strongly 
fortified castle, we kept our foes at bay. 

Now and again a shot would come crashing 


THE ATTACK ON THE CAVE. 


63 


against the roof or side of the cave, and we answered 
it whenever a chance offered itself of doing so; 
and for some hours nothing more happened, but 
the gendarmes were drawing a close circle around 
us. None, however, had courage sufficient to approach 
the entrance, although we could hear the sound of 
the men’s voices, and could distinguish the words 
they spoke faintly. It was well toward mid-day 
before three or four of the shirri showed any reso- 
lution on the affair, which they did by coming with 
a rush to the entrance. Three of them fell dead, 
and lay for the remainder of that day where they 
had died, and I remember as one of the things 
which will never be forgotten by me, seeing a big 
vulture swoop down upon one of the dead bodies, 
and begin tearing the flesh with a kind of rage, 
until a shot disturbed the fierce bird and drove it 
reluctantly from its prey. I recollect, too, the sound 
of a man’s voice uttering a word of command that 
broke the unnatural silence which was over the 
scene, and how for long hours none of us moved 
from the watchful positions we had taken up at the 
first alarm. 

At last, however, Serafino roused his voice to its 
highest and began singing the song that I heard 
when I came with Cesario up to the cave, and then 
he stopped abruptly, beginning to talk. 

“ A pleasant state of living this, ” he exclaimed, 
“ and not to be grumbled at, except that all the 
water which was in the cave has gone to wash your 


64 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


wounds, comrades. There is a pannikin full left, 
truly, but I could drink that at a mouthful, and 
would, only for the greediness of taking it all for 
my own thirst And to think of the plentiful quantity 
that is in the barrel under the shade — one of these 
villainous gendarmes is sitting on it most likely. ” 

We were all craving for water, amd he had spoken 
the most dismal truth ever uttered when he said 
we had only a small pannikin of water left. My 
wound was smarting for the want of attention, yet 
I never thought of dressing it afresh, for all I could 
think of was the strait we were in. 

Massoni growled out a response to Serafino which 
I did not heed, and Cesario ground his teeth in 
silent anger. He was becoming desperate and would 
have gone out into the open air to meet his foes, 
if we had not restrained him. 

“It is a better death to be shot, than to go to 
the gallows,” he cried. “There is only one thing 
that keeps me here, and that is my vengeance 
against Fabiani Brasco, which would be unsatisfied 
if I die now.” 

“ And think you I have no injury to revenge ? ” 
exclaimed Serafino. “ What of that miserable, long- 
shanked notary — nay, I will be with him to-morrow or 
within a month’s time at the most, and that scraggy 
throat of his — yes, yes, Signor Angellone the well- 
named, you and I shall have our reckoning. ” 

As talking only made us thirstier than ever, we 
refrained from it, and the time wore away until the 


THE ATTACK ON THE CAVE. 


65 


shadows began lengthening. Then the sound ot 
voices was heard again, and we listened eagerly 
for the words that came along the ground to us 
distinctly. Some men — they in command of the 
party, I suppose — were discussing how best to drive 
us from our shelter, and it was decided to bring a 
company of soldiers from the castle -of Corte, and 
that petards should be thrown in amongst us. Mean- 
while we were to be closely besieged ; and with the 
prospect of being blown to pieces we watched night 
settle down on the mountains, and the glare of a 
freshly kindled fire, which our enemy had lit, comr 
ing redly into the mouth of the cave for a little 
space. 

It was with a kind of despair that we maintained 
our position, exhausted by "the want of water, and 
certain of worse befalling us, when another dawn 
should come. 


CHAPTER VIIL 

HOW WE FARED. 

S ERAFINO lay resting his elbows on the ground 
and his chin on his hands, making a long 
black heap ; Massoni sat with his back against 
the wall, lost in the gloom caused by the pro- 
jecting side of the entrance, whilst Cesario and I 
were a little removed from our comrades. There 
was a dull silence, interrupted now and again by 
a laugh from our unseen enemies, and I re^’nember 
how the stillness oppressed me. Presently, however, 
Serafino rolled over on his side, bringing his face 
into the red light of the fire, and he looked first 
at Massoni and then at Cesario. 

“ One would think we had done some great wrong, ” 
he began, “but for my own part, I own to no- 
thing but restoring to Corsica some of the money 
which the Genoese had taken from us. Witness 
the capture we made of Signor Doria of Furiani. 
He was a Genoese, and it was his own fault that 
we had to silence his noisy tongue.” 

“ It would be better to talk of what we must do 

in the future, than recount what we have done in 
66 


HOW WE FARED. 67 

the past, Serafino,” replied Cesario half laughingly, 
“ and the least said about Signor Doria the better.” 

“ I intend to explain that affair to the judges,” 
said Serafino. “ Maybe it will help me to save 
your neck, Cesario.” 

“Who talks of judges; and the saving of necks,” 
growled Massoni. “ I for one am not to be cap- 
tured. There is a simpler plan than being led into 
Corte, by which we can escape.” 

“Yet to Corte I am going,” answered Serafino. 
“ For as I lie here I see the plan of Signor Poli 
quite easily. He has leagued himself with our 
enemies; he is set on my being made a prisoner, 
I who could have burnt his legs as I burnt his 
stockings, only that I am a tenderer-hearted man than 
most. Poli is a base ingrate. How say you, 
Cesario?” 

“ There are others who have set this attack on 
foot, ” replied Cesario. “ Signor Poli has shewn 
them the way to our retreat, but he is safe at home 
this night. We shall have to wait before we can 
thank him.” 

“ And then,” said Serafino, “ we shall be able to 
do so only by words. I should like to show him 
by deeds.” 

Massoni growled out something which I did not 
hear distinctly, and then we ceased talking for a 
time. The night breeze came sighing in upon us; 
the firelight leaped as the shirri threw fresh logs 
on it, and like caged animals we four in the cave 


68 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


lay at our enemy’s mercy which it needed neither 
of us to doubt. If we were carried down the 
mountain to Corte, there was certain death before 
us, for we should be hanged. The Genoese were 
bitter against Cesario and his companions, he had 
told me, seeing that many a grasping oppressor as 
were all the Genoese in truth, had been stopped 
and robbed. The bandits, however, were friendly 
with the country people, doing many a kind and 
charitable act to them, and not a shepherd or goatherd 
between Tox and Mount Santo Apiano would have 
betrayed us to the authorities. 

I think I must have fallen into a doze,, for when 
Cesario touched me I started out of my thoughts 
that were more a dream than anything else, and for 
a second had to remember my position. 

“ Make ready, Camilla, ” he said ; and I looked at 
his face first, and then at Serafino and Massoni in 
surprise. “You have said nothing — but it is the 
only way to escape.” 

“ I have been asleep,” I answered. “ What am 
I to make ready for ? ” 

“To fight through the gendarmes,” he answered 
coolly, “ and get ourselves into the forest. ” 

I jumped to my feet, feeling a thrill in every vein, 
and we went to the mouth of the cave, Cesario and 
Massoni on one side of the opening, Serafino and 
myself creeping toward the other, until all four were 
within a dozen yards or less of the shirri guards. 
I could hear their movements as they turned on 


HOW WE FARED. 


69 


their hard resting places, and the clank of a scabbard 
seemed close to me, whilst when pressing a .little 
forward from Serafino’s broad shoulder and peering 
cautiously from the side of the entrance, I saw a 
number of men lying in the warmth of the fire, one 
of whom had a pair of glistening eyes, watching 
the cave. For a moment I saw these things and 
then withdrew my head level with Serafino’s, but 
the silence was unbroken and those figures around 
the fire might have been of dead men, for any 
movement there was amongst them. 

I seemed to understand without any directions 
what was to be done. We were to steal away and 
escape if possible without arousing the guards, but 
if discovered, then it would mean a fight to the 
death. I clutched my long stiletto, feeling its 
braided hilt warm in my grasp, and with Serafino 
beside me we were in the open air, our forms cast- 
ing black shadows on the rock, that was blood red 
in the firelight. Just one swift glance to see Cesario 
and Massoni not a yard away from us, and we were 
past the drowsy gard, past the leaping fire-brands, 
had reached a rugged path which led downward — 
and then such a screeching yell broke from our 
foes, that it roused a thousand demon voices as it 
echoed from point to point, together with the reports 
of a dozen guns which were aimed so recklessly at 
us, that they did no harm. 

As the shots fell we bounded from stone to stone 
of the well-known path, Massoni leaping like a 


70 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


mountain goat, whilst Serafino stumbled once or 
twice with a shout of defiance as he rose again. 
Cesario had seized my hand and we were descend- 
ing rapidly, when suddenly across the path 
stood a knot of blackness, which flashed into 
the form of armed men, as a flaming torch was 
lighted by one of them. We were called upon in 
a hoarse voice to surrender, but it were as though 
we did not hear, for with a leap Massoni was upon 
the men, hurling two of them down into the depths, 
and we were in the thick of a deadly struggle the 
next moment. How long it lasted, who fell, or how 
many went down amongst the blackness of the 
forest below, I know not, for all I remember of that 
quickly fought battle for life and freedom is, that 
my stiletto went again and again deep into some 
yielding body and that it came back wet. Serafino 
was a little in front of me, Cesario was still at my 
side, but of Massoni I could see nothing. From 
above came a din of confused voices, and blinding 
torchlight, and then we were bounding forward 
again — but only three of us. Massoni was a 
prisoner. I heard his despairing cry for help, I 
caught one glimpse of his fierce face amid a group 
of gendarmes; and then Cesario, Serafino and I 
were amongst the trees, leaving the lights and 
shouts behind, until the dancing glare died out and 
silence r^gned again supreme. 

There was no pause to ask ourselves how we 
had fared in that deadly fight, nor to speak of it 


HOW WE FARED. 


71 


even. There must be many a mile put between our 
last hiding-place and a new one yet to be found, 
so plodding onward through the forest, Serafino 
leading as though the way had been a well-known 
road to him, we came presently to an opening in 
the trees, where a rill of water trickled like a thread 
of silver in the light of the rising moon. Here we 
drank, as only men a-thirst as we were, could 
drink, and when satisfied lay down to rest our 
wearied aching bodies. It was not until then that I 
felt the bruises and smarting cuts that I had gained 
on the path, and my companions were in a very 
similar plight to myself. But what mattered wounds, 
when life was safe and freedom preserved; yet we 
were mournful at the thought of Massoni’s fate. 

Serafino’s voice had a sorrowful tone, for all that 
he said again and again that he would rescue his 
comrade. “The hangman of Corte shall never put 
a rope round Massoni’s neck,” he groaned. “Yet 
that particular hangman has the reputation of being 
the skilfullest workman in Corsica. Maybe you 
remember his hanging of Stephano Orgillani, Cesario ? 
Ah! but it was done in the twinkling of an eye, 
for all that Stephano struggled manfully.” 

“ There is time enough to talk of that presently, ” 
replied Cesario ; “ and I promise to save Massoni if 
it is in the power of one man to help his friend. 
Just now, however, we must see to the saving of 
ourselves. Our enemies are keen set on capturing us, 
and I propose that we get to the region about Bastia. ’’ 


72 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“ Then let us go beyond Monte Rotondo with all 
speed, ” replied Serafino. “ I have a relative Avho 
lives on the roadside, between Bastia and Corte, 
and he will shelter us. He is a nephew of my 
sister’s husbahd — she who has been dead these ten 
years — but any relative is good enough for me when 
I have an empty stomach and the fear of capture in 
my mind.” 

So we got up from our resting place and went 
forward again, walking until the first of the dawn 
began to redden the mountain-tops,* and presently, 
when I was so fatigued that I seemed walking in 
a troubled sleep, we reached a mud-built cottage 
which stood beneath the sheltering branches of a 
great maple-tree ; and going up to the door Serafino 
struck it with the hilt of his stiletto, giving a shout 
at the same moment. 

“ Vincento,” he said, turning to Cesario who stood 
behind him, “ has the merit of sleeping like an owl 
in the sunlight. He had also a shrewish wife whose 
tongue never ceased — maybe she has gone to Heaven 
and Vincento is dreaming of her.” 

As he spoke the door opened and a tall figure 
was standing regarding us in amazement, whereupon 
Serafino burst into a laugh, calling him by name. 

“ Restrain your delight at beholding us, Vincento, ” 
he exclaimed, “ and let my friends and me get 
within your house.” 

I do not think Vincento had any delight to 
restrain, but he admitted us readily enough. He 


HOW WE FARED. 


73 


was a handsome fellow, roughly dressed in sheep- 
skins, his matted hair hanging half-down his back. 
He was about the age of Cesario, and had eyes that 
seemed to pierce through one when he looked steadily, 
as he did at that moment at his kinsman Serafino. 
A very few words sufficed to explain the cause of our 
coming to his house, and as he listened Vincente’s face 
went first pale and then darkened. 

“Never a better time than this present,” he said, 
“ for leaving the silence of the mountains. There is 
work for every Corsican to do, who is willing to fight. ” 

“Fight, say you!” exclaimed Cesario. “We have 
had our share of it these last few hours. ” 

“Without any gain moreover,” added Serafino, 
“ for all I have won has been a troublesome scratch 
or two.” 

“And our liberty,” I put in. 

“ With loss of everything else we possessed, ” replied 
Serafino ; “ for as I stand here, I can find nothing 
more valuable upon me than a florin which has the 
sound of being base coin, a stiletto sadly in need 
of sharpening, and a dress that holds to me by a 
miracle, so rent and ill-used has it been.” 

Serafino’s condition was not worse than Cesario’s 
or mine, for we had been forced from our retreat 
and were without a coin in our pouches. True, 
these things might have been speedily altered — there 
was many a well-to-do .traveller passing through the 
country from Bastia, but Cesario would not consent 
to any adventure. 


74 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“ I have something else to do beside the robbing 
of defenceless people, Serafino, ” he said, “ and as 
for Camilla, that was never his trade, nor is likely 
to be. I have money sufficient for my wants stored 
up by Nasone of Ajaccio, and until I go to him, 
we must be Vincento’s guests. I will repay him for 
his hospitality.” 

“You are welcome to remain here,” replied Vin- 
cente. “I live alone — Maritano ” — and he stopped 
with a sigh. 

“ I have been waiting to hear her voice, ” said 
Serafino with his mouth full of bread and sour 
cheese. 

Vincento shrugged his shoulders, but made no 
reply. It was not required for him to tell us that 
Maritano was dead. And Serafino made a gesture 
with his head that expressed the satisfaction he felt 
at knowing the sad truth, after which we continued 
our meal in silence. When this was ended Vincento 
took us into a building where a lean cow was chew- 
ing the cud at the further end, and there being an 
ample supply of straw we lay down, and never yet 
was rest more acceptable, nor sleep sooner fallen 
into, than by us three worn-out fugitives from the 
shirri of Corte. 

In perfect safety we remained at Vincento’s cottage 
until next day, and from him we learnt that stirring 
events were in progress in Corsica. Living as I had 
been, in the strict seclusion of my cousin’s house, 
only rumours of the struggle of Corsica for freedom 


HOW WE EARED. 


75 


from the Genoese had reached us, and these of late 
dwindled into forgetfulness. To Cesario and his 
companions amongst the mountains very little news 
came, and therefore it was that the story Vincen- 
to told us was listened to with deepest interest. 

We heard that the last of the Germans who had 
helped the Genoese in subduing the revolt of the 
Corsicans against their oppressors, had gone from 
thor island, which was now left with only Genoa to 
encounter. The long and bloody quarrel had broken 
out afresh, beginning at a place called Rostini, 
where the people had risen in insurrection, a man 
whose name all Europe was to honour being at 
, their head. This was Hyacinthus Paoli, well suited 
for his post; and with him was Castineta, a brave 
soldier and clever general. Vincento had the names 
of these men together with their many deeds of 
bravery at his tongue’s tip, narrating the story of 
the rising in Rostini in a way that set my blood 
alive. 

“ The struggle has begun which is to free Corsica 
from the yoke of the foreigner,” he cried, starting 
from the table at which we were sitting, and 
beginning to pace the earthen floor of the cottage. 
“There is need of every true Corsican. Wai/ has 
been declared against Genoa, and I leave my home 
to fight in the cause. How say you, Serafino?” 

“ How say I, indeed!” exclaimed Serafino, looking 
round at me. “ What else is there to say, but that 
1 shall go along with you, kinsman?” 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 




“ And I too, ” cried Cesario. “ I am tired of my 
lonely life amidst the mountains. Yes, I am with 
you, Vincento.” 

“ And I,” was my answer. 

So we joined hands, resolved to go to. Rostini ' 
without delay and share the fortunes of those in 
revolt. 

“Yet there is something to be done, even before 
fighting the Genoese, ” exclaimed Serafino, giving a 
nod which made his curly hair shake. “ There is 
one who must join Paoli, and who will be with 
him before many hours have gone by.” 

Cesario gave an answering nod, and Vincento 
paused in his pacing to and fro. 

“ Massoni is in prison in Corte,” said Serafino 
slowly; “but he shall not be hanged. We must 
rescue him.” 

“How?” demanded Vincento. 

“ I have a plan, ” replied Serafino, “ an excellent 
plan, to be put into execution at once. Listen, my 
friends, and reckon Massoni is as good as free 
already.” 


CHAPTER IX. 

STEALING THE HANGMAN. 

S ERAFINO leant forward over the table, around 
which we sat, attentively hearing the plan by 
which our comrade Massoni was to be rescued 
from the clutches of the enemy. 

" Massoni is now in the fortress of Corte, ” explained 
Serafino ; “ and there is not a passage nor part of 
that place of cruelty but what I am acquainted 
with it. For to tell the truth, my friends, I have 
been there twice myself, and to keep nothing secret 
from you, the last time was worse than the first. 
It was in the matter of an aged German by whom 
I had been enriched, and nothing but jealousy of my 
good fortune occasioned a villainous gendarme to 
clap me into prison. The first visit I paid was as 
a friend of the one-eyed cobbler when I helped him 
carry the lieutenant’s boots into the fortress.” 

“But what has this to do with saving Massoni?” 
exclaimed Cesario impatiently. 

“ A very great deal indeed, because after we 

have stolen the hangman” but here the laugh 

we all burst into interrupted him. 

77 


78 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“Laugh away then,” continued Serafino, “and it 
any of you have a better plan to the end of saving 
Massoni, we will hear it. Yet tell me this— to hang 
a man requires a hangman, and to be a hangman 
requires a practised hand. Such as Tortoni’s to wit. 
Now suppose when the moment comes for Massoni 
to approach the gallows, that Tortoni is absent? 
Who then is to hang Massoni?” 

This was a question neither of us could answer, 
and he went on again. 

“ It would be rank madness to attack the fortress, 
and carry Massoni off by that means, but there is 
nothing to hinder us from capturing the hangman. 
He lives in a straw-thatched hovel beneath the wall of 
Saint Dominico’s Church, where between the hanging 
of criminals, the calling together of the pious to 
worship — he is bellringer of Saint Dominico’s you 
will understand, having a close knowledge of ropes — 
and finally by the business of writing love-letters, 
Tortoni earns a good living. He and I have met many 
a time at the vine-covered inn of which I have told 
you, and he is beside this a warm friend of the one-eyed 
cobbler whom I aided in carrying the lieutenant’s boots. ” 

“ Come to the plan, Serafino,” cried Cesario. 
“ You are long enough in this introduction for there 
being time to hang Massoni twice over.” 

“ There is never anything gained by hurrying, ” 
replied Serafino, “ and this is the feast of Saint 
Michaelino. Nobody is ever hanged on sl fes^a; so 
rest you easy on that score. 


STEALING THE HANGMAN. 


79 


“It is in this way then that Tortoni and I are, 
as may be said, old friends. Many a glass have 
we drunk together, and many a time Tortoni has 
looked at me — particularly at the region of my 
throat I have thought since — and as for his house, 
why, I know it so well by sight that blindfold me 
and I will lead you to it.” 

“Now for the plan then,” cried Cesario. “Yeti 
see it, Serafino. We are to carry Tortoni away 
from Corte ! ” 

“ Yes — a good long way off too.” 

“And then lie in wait for the procession from 
the fortress, which will have Massoni in the centre 
of it?” 

“With a black-robed brother of the order of ‘La 
Misericorda’ singing to him — as if that could comfort 
a poor fellow at such a time, ” added Serafino. 
“ Oh, but I have seen a sight like that many a 
score of times, with that cold-blooded Tortoni waiting 
at the place of execution, wearing a look that 
makes me hate him even at this moment.” 

“ And we are to rescue Massoni from the soldiers ! ” 
I cried, feeling all the excitement of the venture 
like a hot wind blowing on me. 

“ There is no other method of saving him,” replied 
Serafino. “We cannot break down the fortress, nor 
hope for any mercy from the lieutenant. His heart 
is harder than the stones of the castle itself.” 

Neither of us inquired what the result of failure 
would be. Certain death — death by the rope, and 


8o 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


that without trial or delay moreover, would await 
us. Even I knew that the Genoese governors of 
the various fortresses in Corsica were little prone 
to show leniency to their prisoners, and there were 
many people who would witness against Cesario 
and his companion even if we were vouchsafed a 
hearing. Once prisoner behind the walls of the castle 
of Corte and our fate was sealed ; but not a second 
thought did we give to that. 

The feast day of Saint Michaelino was passing 
quickly away, and if Serafino’s plan were to be 
carried out, it must be begun forthwith. The 
hangman’s house was a good six miles as a bee 
flies, Vincento told us, and by the road two or 
three miles further. Vincento would join in the 
venture and it was settled that Tortoni should be 
brought to the lonely cottage where we now sat. 
What was to be done with him afterwards I did 
not ask, but Serafino hinted, that according to the 
hangman’s behaviour so would his treatment be. 
As for ourselves, we had already decided, as I have 
said, to join the insurgents at once under Hyacinthus 
Paoli, who was at Rostini, and Massoni should go 
with us. 

Very few preparations were made, nor were 
many needed, but Serafino bound a coil of light 
rope that was in the shed, round his waist beneath 
his tattered coat. “Tortoni is a judge of cordage,” 
he said, “ and I have to ask his opinion of yours, 
Vincento. A rope like this will serve a good many 


STEALING THE HANGMAN. 


8l 


purposes, and for a mere writer of love-letters Tor- 
toni is one of the strongest in Corsica — if he had 
not been he could never have hanged that unfortunate 
Stephano,” and Serafino gave a jerk at the long 
rope, whilst Vincento bolted the door of his cottage 
and we began our journey to Coste as the sun was 
sinking. 

It was dark by the time we reached the outskirts 
oi the town, and although Serafino would have gone 
boldly up to the inn kept by his friend, and regaled 
us with wine, we kept him from the dangerous 
recklessness. The attack upon our mountain refuge, 
and the result of it, were events which the fre- 
quenters of the inn would find ample conversation 
for, and although we might have been safe amongst 
them, the shirri would assuredly have discovered us 
there. So it was resolved to go at once to the 
house where lived the public executioner Tortoni, 
so soon as Serafino had stolen through the vine-yard 
up to the inn and peeped in through the window 
to make certain that the hangman was not there. 
We waited eagerly for our companion’s return, and 
in a few moments he came back to us, his broad 
face all alive with emotion. 

“ I looked through the window, ” he began, speak- 
ing in a husky whisper, “ and there at his ease^ 
with a flagon of wine at his elbow and a bundle 
of papers on the table, beheld Signor Poli. With 
him sat a 3'’oung fellow, tall and strongly built, who 
had one arm bandaged and supported by a hand- 

6 


82 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


kerchief, with whom the notary was talking eagerly. 
The window was open and I heard the name of 
Camilla Negroni uttered.” 

“ It was Teodor Brasco, ” I exclaimed, “ my cou- 
sin’s son ; ” and Cesario uttered a sharp word be- 
tween his teeth. 

“ Only that I was so taken up with the project 
of leaping in upon that villainous notary,” went on 
Serafino, “ maybe I should have heard more of the 
conversation, but it was clear that we owe our troubles 
to this young fellow whom you call Teodor. For 
said he to Signor Poli, ‘You shall have five hun- 
dred florins, paid you by my father, if you bring 
about the capture of Camilla Negroni and the death 
of Cesario Arrighi.’ And what think you of that, 
my friends? From this moment I reckon Signor 
Brasco and his father my enemies.” 

I made no answer, neither did Cesario, but it was 
clear as the sun’s light that what Nasone had told 
me of my cousin’s intentions toward me was true. 
My capture, although I had done no wrong, would 
mean my death also, and in that case the money 
and land which were mine would be seized by my 
cousin. Nay, I began to think that he had done this 
already and was anxious for my being condemned 
along with his mortal enemy Cesario Arrighi. 

However, we had other work in hand that night, 
beyond thinking of Fabiani Brasco’s villainy, and 
being certain that Tortoni was not at the inn we 
began our perilous walk through the dark streets 


STEALING THE HANGMAN. 


83 


toward the church of Saint Dominico, Serafino lead- 
ing the way and Vincento keeping a little in 
the rear. 

There were not many people about, but at one 
or two of the taverns the sound of merry-making 
could be heard, and at each Serafino did his best 
to discover whether the hangman were one of 
the party. 

“ Tortoni has a merry soul — considering his trade,” 
said Serafino, “ and will sing as cheerfully as ever 
I have done ; not that I like the sound of his voice, 
it being as though he were choking at times — a 
habit caught from his work mayhap.” And then 
when he had explained this, stopping to do so, we 
hastened on again until at last we reached a corner 
of the street, seeing a little way off the light of a 
window. 

“ The house of Tortoni,” whispered Serafino, point- 
ing with his hand to where beneath the shadow of 
a great church tower, nestled a little house, whence 
the gleam of light fell from the window across the 
rough road. 

“ I will go in and engage myself in conversation 
with Tortoni,” said Vincento. “I will say that I 
have a letter he must write for me, and you shall 
follow when I give the signal.” 

“ Learn everything first about Massoni, ” whispered 
Cesario. 

“Tortoni is a great talker,” added Serafino; “he 
likes nothing better than to gossip of his business, 


84 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


like any other tradesman. Gain from him at what 
hour to-morrow he was to hang our comrade.” 

“I will learn everything, trust me,” answered 
Vincento, moving forward, and we saw the door 
opened as he glided into the house. 

We drew close to the window, straining our ears 
to catch what was being said within. Vincento’s 
signal was to be a cough, when we were to rush 
through the door, and as to what might happen 
afterwards, we left it to blind chance. But to carry 
the hangman off, and thus delay our poor comrade’s 
death, was the purpose for which each of us was 
ready to risk his liberty and life. 

I do not think Vincento was longer than a few 
moments before the signal came, but waiting there, 
crouched in the shadow of the tower, it seemed 
hours to me. Then the cough was repeated and 
the next moment we were through the doorway 
and into the room, where at a table with a pen 
between his knuckly fingers, and his stubby black 
hair growing down nearly to his eyebrows, sate 
Tortoni, the hangman of Corte. For an instant or 
two he regarded us with a surly expression and 
then inquired our business. 

“ The matter of letter-writing is becoming of 
importance, it seems,” he said at length. “Four 
customers at once ! ” 

“ I have a mind to see the manner of your 
writing,” answered Serafino, getting himself behind 
Tortoni’s chair, but the hangman twisted himself round. 


STEALING THE HANGMAN. 


85 


‘'Fair play friend,” he cried; “maybe you are 
more learned than you look, and can read what is 
written, ” and Serafino with his hands held at his back 
grinned without answering, whilst Cesario, Vincento, 
and I closed in upon the sitting figure. 

“Stand back,” cried Tortoni suddenly, flying into 
a passion. “ What manners do ye call these ? — back, 
I say, or the table will be overturned;” but before 
he could spring from his chair we had him in our 
grasp. Quick as the hangman would have done it 
himself Serafino had twisted the cord round and 
round Tortoni’s arms, binding them tightly, and 
rendering his struggles fruitless. But our victim 
seemed to possess a giant’s strength, so that it re- 
quired all ours to subdue him. In doing this the 
table was sent flying with a crash, the lantern by 
which he had been writing was extinguished, and 
in the darkness we all fought and reeled to and 
fro, Tortoni’s stentorian voice adding to the tumult. 
But we had secured him at last ; his legs that seemed 
as mighty as ten men’s were bound and then we 
carried him to the door. 

But alas, it was fated that our progress should 
not be very far, for as we hurried through the 
street, meaning that the hangman should walk so 
soon as we were quit of Corte, his weight being 
great, there came the sound of feet running, and 
before we could make good our escape we were 
surrounded by a crowd of people, amongst whom 
were a dozen or more gendarmes. 


86 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


I suppose Serafino’s face was known to some of 
the throng, and a woman came screaming up to 
him, uttering a cry of recognition. “The bandits,” 
she exclaimed, “ they who killed the shirri who 
would have made them prisoners,” and when she 
said this a big officer, wearing the dress of a Genoese 
soldier, seized Serafino, whilst another held a lantern 
up to our faces. 

“Your name is Serafino,” he said sternly, “and 
this is Cesario Arrighi.” 

There was no use in our protesting against being 
made prisoners, nor would it have bettered our 
unfortunate position had we resisted, so with a fol- 
lowing of howling people we were conducted up 
the steep hill, and reaching the fortress were put 
together into a cell, with a promise that to-morrow 
we should be examined by the governor and learn 
our fate. 


CHAPTER X. 


AN UNEXPECTED EVENT. 

I N total darkness, for Serafino’s request that the 
lantern which one of the soldiers held might be 
left with us, had been refused, we four unfortunate 
prisoners sat against the wall of the cell, and for 
a little while not a word was spoken. At length, 
however, Serafino began singing, but it added such a 
dolefulness to our condition that we stopped him. 

“ But what am I to do ? ” he demanded. “ There 
is nothing to say, and I was never one to keep my 
tongue still.” 

“ What part of the fortress are we in ? ” asked 
Cesario. “You know every passage in the place 
and every cell.* 

“For which reason I say that we have nothing 
to talk about. Unless you have a liking for the sub- 
ject of hanging. That is what our fate will be.” 

“ Is there no chance of forcing a way out of this?” 
exclaimed Cesario, groping his way to the door 
and shaking it. 

“Not a single chance, believe me,” replied Sera- 
fino. “One of the things pointed out to me by 
87 


88 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


that ominous one eye of the cobbler was the thick- 
ness of the doors within the fortress. Not that he 
need have done that — I saw it quite well.” 

“It maddens me to think I am caught thus,” 
replied Cesario, “and that my enemy will triumph 
over me.” 

“ Yet it will not be for long,” answered Serafino. 
“ To-morrow, or the day after at the latest, we shall 
be beyond the sound or sight of every trouble. 
Consider that.” 

“And Massoni will never know that we tried to 
save him,” went on Cesario. 

“ Yes — Massoni will certainly pay the penalty of 
the law now, ” answered Serafino tranquilly. “ But 
what it is impossible to change, one must bear 
calmly. I am sorry that you, Vincento, have got 
into this loathsome prison, and that you, Camilla, 
are to suffer with us.” 

I made a careless reply, not caring to let my 
misery be known; and then we fell to talking on 
subjects which had no bearing on our present un- 
happy condition. We began wondering how Tortoni 
would punish us, as he most likely would, for our 
attack upon him; and in this way we beguiled the 
tedious time until the grey dawn came through the 
heavy bars of the window, showing us the wretched- 
ness of the cell. 

We were kept without food, I remember, until 
late in the day, and when we had eaten some hard 
bread were ordered to follow the jailer to the 


AN UNEXPECTED EVENT. 


89 


governor’s room. Here we were confronted by a 
frowning officer, whose name we heard was Vittolo. 
He was a Genoese general, to whom in reward for 
his services in Corsica the office of governor of the 
castle of Corte had been given. 

In a harsh voice he questioned each of us separ- 
ately, a clerk who sat below him at a table 
writing our answers in a large book. It is not 
necessary that I recount all the useless words which 
were asked and answered, and there was never the 
least doubt as to what the end of our examination 
would be. Serafino and Cesario, already banned by 
the law, having received the ^ Sonetto " needed 
no further trial, and as for Vincento and myself, 
the attempt upon the person of the public hangman 
could not be overlooked. I suppose the governor 
reasoned that it was a safer plan to hang us, than 
to sentence us to imprisonment, the more so, seeing 
that we had been arrested whilst in company of 
the two bandits, and with a few gruff words he 
ordered us back to our cells to be hanged in twenty- 
four hours from the wall of the fortress. 

“So the end of the tether has been reached,” 
exclaimed Serafino, “ and one or two private matters 
of my own will be for ever left unfinished. Signor 
Poli will flourish whilst my bones are resting easily, 
and Hyacinthus Paoli wiU lose four stout soldiers 
that would have fought for him and the cause of 
Corsica. I think that a very great pity.” 

‘ This expression means, “ sentenced in contumaciumj* 


go 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“And I shall go unavenged to rhy grave,” 
responded Cesario, “ leaving Fabiani Brasco to 
triumph over me.” And when he said this my 
thoughts flew back to the old house amongst the 
mountains. My cousin would enjoy my inheritance 
unhindered, and a great bitterness came into my 
heart against him and Teodor. But it was worse 
than useless to allow these thoughts to overmaster 
the far more serious ones which were there, and I 
entered into the conversation to divert my wretch- 
edness if possible. Serafino showed the greatest 
courage I think, although Cesario was calm and 
resigned, whilst as for Vincento, he shrugged the 
heavy skins that formed his coat and said life 
was scarce worth the living under the Genoese 
yoke. 

Twelve hours of the twenty-four had gone, for 
try as I might not to do so, I could not resist 
counting them as they struck from a church- tower 
below the fortress. Twelve hours more of life and 
then we should be led out, as many others had 
been led, on to the little platform which opened 
from a window high up in the wall, and there in 
the sight of a gaping crowd Tortoni would have 
his revenge upon us. 

“ I intend to make my peace with our friend Tor- 
toni,” exclaimed Serafino, suddenly rousing himself. 
“I shall declare that only the fear of his struggles 
caused me to bind him so tightly.” 

“ I only hope he will believe you,” replied Cesario, 


AN UNEXPECTED EVENT. 


Q1 


“ but that I doubt. Heigh-ho, another hour gone. 
How quickly the time flies ! ” 

We were getting wearied by our captivity and 
the half darkness in the cell would have subdued 
even braver hearts than my companions’. The time 
wore away and we slept for a little while, waking 
to hear that dismal clock booming out our shorten- 
ing span of life. 

But as it ceased, there came another sound such 
as I had never heard before,* although it was like 
the moaning of the wind through the forest; and 
then it came clearer until it was the sound of voices, 
loud and strong. 

“They mean to make another festival it seems,” 
said Serafino carelessly ; “ and yet never before was 
such a hubbub raised.” But as he spoke another 
sound broke on the air — the sound of a cannon’s 
roar; and past the door of our cell went hurrying 
footsteps, and through the fortress the shrill note 
of a trumpet call. 

“They are calling the garrison to arms,” cried 
Cesario excitedly, “ and there are four hours yet 
before our execution.” 

“Maybe they are collecting the guard to honour 
the arrival of the hangman,” replied Serafino. 

“But the cannon — what does that mean?” I 
exclaimed, a question soon answered, for whilst it 
was on my tongue there came a blow against the 
wall of the cell which brought a shower of plaster 
clattering to the floor. 


92 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“Not overmuch like the tune of a festival this,” 
said Serafino. “ Yet what work is a-foot I cannot 
guess at. How say you, Vincento? ” 

“The fortress has been attacked,” cried Vincento. 
“ The patriot army is before the gates, and Hya- 
cinthus Paoli is in Corte.” 

“Then the saints send him a speedy conquest,” 
replied Serafino. “ I wish I were outside helping 
to batter the gloomy fortress down the hill, but 
there is nothing to be done that I can lend aid to.” 

By this time a brisk cannonade was being main- 
tained against the castle, returned by the garrison, 
which Vincento informed us was but few in numbers, 
and moreover that the means of defence were ill- 
fitted to repel an attack. 

“ For all its frowns the castle is a nut easily 
broken, ” said he, “ and Paoli has cannon in plenty. 
He and his army have gathered at the foot of Monte 
Rotondo — yes, I remember hearing the plan spoken of 
— and he has advanced during our imprisonment.” 

“It will assuredly disarrange the plans for our 
being hanged,” replied Serafino. “But to be mid- 
way between a fight never suited me — one side or 
the other I must take.” 

“ Hark ! ” cried Cesario, “ the fighting has reached 
the gates at last. They are taking the fortress by 
assault. ” 

It was plainly to be heard, that fierce onset of 
the Corsicans against the castle. I learnt afterwards 
that the struggle was long and bloody ; that many 


AN UNEXPECTED EVENT. 


93 


brave men fell in defending the fortress and more 
in attacking it, and we in our cell could hear the 
conflict raging, the hoarse shouts of the combatants 
coming distinctly whilst we were vainly trying to 
break down the stubborn bolts of our prison. There 
were no more thoughts of ourselves; the prospect 
of an ignominious death was thrust from our sight 
by the stern realities of the furious battle raging 
now within the very walls of the castle. For indeed, 
strange as it may seem, my eyes pictured the savage 
struggle as though they saw it before them; and at 
last the tide of war came flowing past the thick 
door which held us captive. Yet it remained closed 
but for a little time afterwards; eager hands were 
battering down its strong lock and sturdy bolts, 
splintering the wood- work; and then we four con- 
demned prisoners were free again; joining in the 
crush of armed men, who had driven all opposition 
before them, and helping to release those who like 
ourselves had been held in durance behind locked 
doors. 

The garrison had gained their last refuge and here 
they laid down their arms. We saw the Genoese 
governor led prisoner from the very room wherein 
he had delivered his unjust sentence upon us, and 
the castle of Corte was in the hands of the revolt- 
ing Corsicans. Yet even this was not the most 
important event of that memorable day, for coming 
to a door deep in the foundations of the fortress 
we found a solitary cell, from whence, pale and 


94 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


shivering, emerged our comrade Massoni; and never 
will the loud cry of welcome which arose from 
Serafino’s throat be forgotten as he clasped Massoni’s 
hand. 

And in this fashion then did I become one of 
Hyacinthus Paoli’s faithful followers, with whom 
and also with his fellow-patriot Castineta and many 
others, I shared in some of the most eventful episodes 
of the Corsican insurrection against the Genoese 
conquerors. In company with Cesario Arrighi, 
Serafino, and Massoni I took part in that struggle ; 
but although we won many a hard-fought fight, never 
yet was one more important to us than the attack 
upon the castle of Corte, nor any event happier 
than the breaking into that subterranean cell and 
restoring our companion to liberty and the glorious 
light of day. 


CHAPTER XL 


WE JOIN THE INSURGENTS. 

W HEN we had gone through every gallery and 
passage of the fortress along with the gallant 
patriots who had stormed the stronghold and 
wrested it from the keeping of the Genoese soldiers, 
and had released every prisoner, we who had been 
saved went down the hill into the town that was crowded 
with excited people exulting over the victory which 
had been gained. In the centre of the market-place 
in the midst of a throng so dense that we could only 
reach the outskirt of it, stood a tall handsome man 
who was speaking in a voice clear as a bell so that 
we could hear every word he said. Never before 
had I heard such words spoken and they seemed to 
make me forget myself and think only of what his 
speech meant. It was the call to the Corsicans to 
rise against their oppressors and to drive them out 
of the island. He told us stories of the cruelties 
and crimes of which the Genoese had been guilty; 
of the long years in which Corsica had been kept 
in bondage, and as he said these words and a thou- 
sand others, his eyes flashed and his upraised hand 

05 


96 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


was trembling with emotion. Cheer after cheer rang 
through the air as, with an eloquence beyond my 
power to describe, he pointed to the fortress that 
crowned the hill, and promised that each castle and 
camp held by the Genoese should be torn from them 
as the Castle of Corte had been that day. 

Vincento was standing beside us, and when the 
speaker had finished, I learnt his name. 

“That is the leader of whom I told you,” said 
Vincento, “ Hyacinthus Paoli, whom they have placed 
at the head of the insurrection. That stoutly built 
man who stands at his side is Castineta, and it was 
Castineta who led the attack on our prison.” 

“ Then I vow every drop of blood in my body to 
his service,” exclaimed Serafino. “For come what 
may to us, we shall not be hanged this day.” 

“ It will be better to say that to-morrow, ” replied 
Cesario, “ for who knows what may happen to us ? 
See, here comes Tortoni.” 

“He will shake hands with me,” cried Serafino. 
“ This is no day to remember old grievances, and I 
am even on the look-out for my old friends the gen- 
darmes. ” 

He sprang forward as he spoke, and we saw him 
run up to where, moody and ill at ease, the hang- 
man Tortoni w^s walking slowly across the market- 
place. There was too much excitement for people 
to pay any heed to each other or to mark any 
occurrence such as this, for was not everything that 
had happened that day eventful and uncommon. 


WE JOIN THE INSURGENTS. 


97 


“Welcome, most learned scribe of Corte,” cried 
Serafino, giving the hangman such a sturdy slap on 
the shoulder that he reeled under it. “ It was fated 
that you and I should meet this day, but I for one 
am glad that it was not upon the particular busi- 
ness in which you are so apt.” 

“ They should have put off the attack on the castle 
until to-morrow,” growled Tortoni. “ For I have a 
score to settle with you, my fine fellow, though 
maybe the chance to pay it will come later, for all 
that has happened.” 

Serafino burst into a roar of laughter. 

“ Maybe the time will come that I can make 
amends for carrying you out of your house, Signor 
Hangman, ” he cried. “ Who knows — the world is 
always rolling round, and some of us come to the 
top at times — those who do not get hanged mean- 
while. So I promise you this — if ever I can do 
you a service you may reckon on its being as good 
as done.” 

“ Bah ! ” . ejaculated the hangman, turning on his 
heel, and Serafino’s jolly face was all alive with 
merriment. 

Cesario and I had stood listening to this little 
conversation, and then we began debating what was 
to be done next. Vincento would ' return to his 
cottage in order to sell the few articles of any value 
that remained to him. “ The tax-gatherers see to it 
that we have no money after they have visited us, ” 
he said, “ but times are changing quickly,” and so with 

7 


g8 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

a promise to rejoin us at Corte in a few days, we 
saw our late fellow-prisoner go striding up the road 
that leads to Bastia. 

Our first act was to enroll ourselves in the little 
army of patriots, who were later on to do deeds which 
have aroused the sympathies and gained the admira- 
tion of the whole world, and to that end we went 
into a tavern where Paoli and the other leaders were 
in council. And if I had listened with a beating 
heart to brave Paoli’s harangue on the market-place, 
what shall I say when I met him face to face and 
marked each kindly word he spoke to us. But few 
questions were asked — it sufficed that my companions 
and I were Corsicans, that we were ready to lay 
down our lives in the sacred cause of freedom, and 
that we were impatient for the moment when we 
might show our patriotism. Castineta, I remember, 
was a stern-visaged man, who spoke but little, yet 
what was said was direct and plain ; and there were 
others standing or sitting round the table in the 
tavern — men who were to bleed and die in the 
struggle— whilst on the market-place and streets, 
in every house and place of gathering, was a 
shouting, striving crowd of valiant men and brave 
women. 

When our interview with the leaders was over 
we came out of the room, Serafino singing in a 
way that made him conspicuous, as indeed it ever 
did, and Cesario took me aside. 

“Will you venture into Ajaccio once more?” he 


WE JOIN THE INSURGENTS. 


99 


asked. “ It will be somewhat of a risk you will run 
in returning.” 

“How so?” I asked. “Yes, I will go, Cesario.” 

“In this way will the danger be,” he answered. 
“ I wish you to bring from Nasone the money which 
I have entrusted to his keeping. It is a goodly 
amount and every soldo is wanted for the purchase 
of arms and ammunition for our fellow-country- 
men.” 

He said this in a quiet tone, making nothing of 
the sacrifice it meant to him, and I glanced at his 
ragged dress thinking some of the money would be 
well spent on himself. Nor was I in a better trim, 
having work enough to keep my own rags on my 
shoulders. We had neither money nor arms, the 
latter having been taken from us when we were 
carried off to prison. 

“I would go with you,” he continued, “but I 
have other business to attend to here. I have to 
speak with Signor Poli.” 

Cesario’s dark eyes shot out a dangerous gleam 
as he spoke, and I gave a very shrewd guess at 
what his business with the notary meant. We said 
nothing of it however, but rejoined Serafino, who 
was at that instant dancing and singing lustily, 
with Massoni beside him munching a great sausage 
which a good-hearted soul had given him. 

And here I quitted my companions, after filling 
my pocket with some food which the same hand 
that had provided Massoni’s sausage gave me, and 

Lof C. 


lOO 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


promising to return with all speed, set out on mv 
journey to Ajaccio. 

I think if it had not been for the earnestness that 
Cesario had shewn that I should visit Nasone at 
once, I should have waited until the next day be- 
fore going, for it was already late and the walk 
into Ajaccio a long one. But without considering 
this overmuch I made the best of my way thither, using 
the shorter road which Nasone shewed upon my 
first visit to him. Yet I doubt whether I should have 
done this for all its shortness if the hour had been 
earlier than it was, for the road, although it lessened 
my walk, greatly increased its loneliness. Between 
great frowning' masses of rock, deep down into long 
stretches of silence — at least it is in this manner 
they appeared to me — went the winding path, thickly 
strewn with stones, on either hand being openings, 
here and there, gaunt and forbidding like yawning 
mouths in the rocky sides of the hills, and over all 
rested the stillness of death. I suppose it was the 
coming here fresh from the life and stir of Corte and 
the exciting events to which I owed my life, that made 
my walk well nigh horrible to me. Every warning 
Cesario had given, the need for watching against an 
enemy, who might assail me at any unforeseen moment, 
and the swift coming memories of the treachery and 
ill-will my cousin had shewn, combined to make me 
anxious to reach Ajaccio before darkness had closed in. 
So onward I went, never relaxing my watchfulness, and 
at length the welcome sight of a cottage that stood 


WE JOIN THE INSURGENTS. loi 

not far distant from the town came in sight When 
I passed it last, which was with Nasone, a merry 
voiced man had saluted us from the door of the 
cottage, and I stopped, meaning to beg a cup 
of milk, for my mouth was dry and my lips were 
parched with thirst. I crossed to the cottage then 
and would have knocked at the door, but to my 
surprise it stood a-jar, and there was no sound from 
within. That horrible silence that had haunted me 
so long was upon the empty cottage, and I shrank 
back from the half-opened door. If I had thought 
a moment perhaps, I might have guessed half-a- 
dozen good reasons for the cottage being left thus, 
but this I did not do, hastening away as though the 
place had been plague-stricken, and without turning 
my head gained Ajaccio at last. 

I remembered the way to Emanuel Matra’s house, 
and it was not long before I was in the narrow 
street in which it was situated, but here as well as 
in the country road the strange quietude prevailed. 
Not a living being was to be seen nor heard, whilst 
here and there housedoors stood open as though the 
inmates of them had fled in eager haste, leaving 
their houses unguarded. The fast vanishing light 
gave a gloomy desolate air to the scene, upon which 
ghostly shadows were gathering, and as I passed 
along beneath the overhanging stories of the ancient 
houses darkness came upon me as though the last 
flickering light of a lantern had died away. But 
I was at my journey’s end at last, Nasone’s com- 


102 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


fortable room was within my reach, and I placed 
my hand on the swinging handle of the bell. 

But as I did this, there came upon the stillness 
a cry of mingled terror and helpless despair, that 
seemed to stop the very beat of my heart and 
caused me to start from the door way. “ Help ! 
Help ! ” screamed that wild voice, and it came from 
within the closely shuttered house. 


CHAPTER Xn. 


I SAVE NASONE’S life. 

T he cry died away as I stood gazing at the 
forbidding door that would have defied any- 
thing but a cannonshot to burst it open, and 
for an instant I remained unable to move from the 
spot, so aghast was I by the sound of that awful 
cry. Then came the crash of broken glass and the 
clatter of it upon the stones as the casement above 
the porchway was burst open, and a confused 
struggling form plainly discernible against the purple 
sky was thrust out from the opening as I glanced 
upward. The cry had not been repeated, but I 
think the waiting for it to ring out again was worse 
— if that could be — than even the despairing voice 
itself, and I rushed into the porch, seizing the bell, 
and ringing such a peal as the old house had never 
heard before, and doing this I saw a glint of light 
against the lintel showing that the door was un- 
bolted and unlatched. Without a moment’s pause 
I was in the passage, had reached the winding 
staircase, and stumbling over some soft body that 
lay stretched before the door, I was in Nasone’s room. 
103 


104 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


The light which had shone beneath the lintel had 
disappeared as I rushed into the house, and the 
staircase was in darkness, but in the room the 
hanging lamp showed me two men engaged in a 
desperate struggle in which one of them was 
weakening, his body resting bent out from the 
broken casement, and his opponent who beat with 
savage strength the hands of his victim which held 
to the crazy lattice was the taller and stronger of 
the two. There was only time to see this, for I 
had flung myself upon the murderous fellow and 
getting a tight grip of his throat, forced his face up 
to the light. It was Fabiani Brasco, and a fierce 
oath came gurgling from his throat under my grip. 

“ Camilla, ” he cried as my hold relaxed from the 
very suddenness and surprise of the meeting. “ They 
said you were dead,” and. with a quick movement 
Fabiani struck at me with his stiletto, whilst as I 
sprang aside to avoid the thrust he had crossed the 
room, hobbling quickly, and with a groan the figure 
of his victim sank inward at my feet. Then I 
recognised Nasone, his long grey hair dabbled with 
blood from a cut across the forehead. 

There were signs of a deadly struggle having 
taken place, and the lid of the iron bound coffer 
stood open, but of these things I gave little heed, 
Nasone needing all my attention at that instant. Lifting 
him to the hearth I placed his helpless body in a 
chair and then as best I could, brought back his 
consciousness. There was wine on the table and I 


I SAVE NASONE’S life. 105 

forced a glass to his lips, seeing him open his eyes 
greatly to my satisfaction, and then I searched in 
the closet, which I remembered held everything one 
could possibly want, for a basin and water. These 
I quickly, discovered and having bathed his cut, and 
cleared his face of the blood which had dyed it, 
Nasone drank a deep draught of the wine unaided. 
I recollect how he sat, staring at me as though I 
had been some stranger, or another enemy waiting 
to attack him. 

“ Signor Matra, ” I exclaimed, “ you remember me, 
I am Camilla Negroni, who came here once before.” 

“Truly,” replied Nasone, smacking his lips slowty, 
and keeping that steady, unrecognising stare upon 
me. “Yes, I remember quite well. Negroni — that 
was the name he mentioned not an hour ago. A 
desperate fellow, yet I think there is something he 
will not forget easily.” 

“Signor Matra,” I cried, for his mind was going 
wandering again, “ I have come from your kinsman 
Cesario Arrighi.” 

“From whom else should you come? ” he answered 
rather crossly. “ Aye, it is all gathering in my mind. 
He was going to murder me. He, Fabiani Brasco.” 

“I came at the very instant he was forcing you 
out of the window, ” I answered. “ The saints be 
thanked that I was in time. Tell me what has 
happened.” 

Nasone gave a shrill laugh and began looking 
around. “The dog,” he said. “The only friend I 


I 06 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

ever trusted without ruing the day I did so,” and 
then as his glance passed the open door a great 
wail of grief came from him, for stretched across 
the doorway lay the faithful dog, still and dead, 
with a great gash in its throat. 

I cannot describe the grief that Nasone showed, 
as with the tears running down his cheeks he stooped 
down, caressing the body of the dead animal. It 
was a sight which for all that I had witnessed so 
many scenes of violence and death, brought tears to 
my own eyes. For a moment or two neither of us 
spoke, and then having closed the door so as to 
hide the animal’s stretched-out body Nasone poured 
out a torrent of fierce anger and threats against 
Fabiani. His own hurts and ill usage were for- 
gotten, and only the slaying of his faithful friend 
remembered. But by and by he became calmer, 
and then I heard the story of his being suddenly 
assailed and almost murdered by Fabiani Brasco. 

“Fabiani had come to my house,” Nasone told 
me, “ upon a matter of business. It is easy to 
understand that Cesario had relaxed his vigilance or 
Fabiani would not have ventured from the moun- 
tains.” 

“ You shall hear the reason for Cesario’s doing 
so, ” I said, “ but first tell me of my cousin. ” 

“ It was an hour ago or maybe longer, ” continued 
Nasone, “and Fabiani having ended the business 
with me that had brought him to Ajaccio, suddenly 
began speaking of you, Camilla. And never before 


I SAVE NASONE’S LIFE. 


107 


did he speak more kindly, saying that it was time 
you were put into possession of your inheritance. 
You must know that a certain written parchment 
— no other than your father’s will — was given into 
my safe keeping when he had come to Ajaccio 
from one of his many voyages. He and I were old 
acquaintances and I undertook to guard the parch- 
ment. You were a child then living at Bastia.” 

I was becoming deeply interested now, for these 
things that Nasone spoke about were new and 
strange to me. 

“ Fabiani who knew of my having this w-ill,” went 
on Nasone — “ a pest on him for this smarting cut he 
has given me, my wits need sadly helping in the 
telling of this story, yet it is true enough — Fabiani 
as I say asked with an oily tongue, that I would 
show him the writing, and with that I unfastened 
the coffer yonder and brought the parchment out. 
Maybe you heard my cry for ‘Help?’” 

“ It might have been heard at Corte, ” I answered. 

“ Yet it did not prevent his striking me to the 
ground, and I saw his stiletto flash before my eyes. 
I remember how the dog — nay, it matters not to 
speak of him now, but Fabiani’s blood shall pay for 
the harm he did — yes, I remember his stiletto flash, 
and that then followed the breaking of glass.” 

“He was for hurling you from the window,” I 
exclaimed. “ But I was in the room before he 
could succeed. What became of the parchment?” 

“ Why did you not thrust your knife between his 


o8 


KING FOR A SUMMER, 


ribs?” screamed Nasone. “You have let him escape 
with his life, aye, and something more precious than 
that, for with him has gone the will that he has 
stolen. The holy Santa Isabella forgive me that I 
ever unfastened the coffer wherein the writing has 
lain since the stormy evening when your father 
came ashore from his ship to give it into my keep- 
ing. It is gone, I tell you — Fabiani Brasco, whose 
murderous heart shall taste my knife yet, has stolen 
it,” and Nasone began rocking himself to and fro, 
bemoaning his loss and mine in a fashion that would 
allow me to offer no word of comfort to him. 

It was some time before I could calm him again 
sufficiently to make him understand the events which 
had happened since I came to Ajaccio last, and the 
nature of my errand there now. By degrees, how- 
ever, he comprehended it, and I learnt the reason 
for that part of the town being left to itself, which 
was that the news of the insurrection had reached 
Ajaccio, the townspeople being then gathered in an 
open space down by the shore, leaving their houses un- 
guarded in the excitement of the stirring times. 

“Fabiani chose his opportunity well, ” I answered, 
when Nasone had ended the recital, “ and has suc- 
ceeded. What is best to be done. Signor Matra? ” 

“ The best thing is to kill him, ” exclaimed he, 
“ or stay — that is a task for me, old as I am. 
The opportunity will come some day and then 
Fabiani Brasco shall be repaid for the evil he has 
done.” 


I SA.VE NASONE’S life. 


109 


“ When I came to the house, there was a light 
shining beneath the door-lintel, ” I said. “ The light 
vanished as I ran in. How was that ? ” 

“ I cannot tell, ” he answered. “ But perhaps 
Fabiani had a companion whom he had left in the 
passage. His son for aught one knows. He and 
his father are in league against you, remember.” 

I had good cause for so doing, and for some 
time we sat talking over my affairs, Nasone giving 
me to understand that my father had left enough 
money to make my life an easy one. It seemed 
strange to think that, when I looked at my ragged 
dress and felt in my empty pockets. There was 
not a poorer lad in Corsica at that moment than I, 
and my anger rose against those who were plotting 
to deprive me of my inheritance. However, there 
were other things to talk about beside my own 
affairs just then, and I told Nasone that he must let 
me carry back the money which Cesario required. 

“The money is ready,” replied Nasone, “but it 
will never reach Cesario if you venture to carry it 
alone through the solitudes which lie between Monte 
Rotondo and Ajaccio. Fabiani will be waiting for 
you now that he knows of your being here, and 
therefore, although without doubt Cesario needs his 
money, he must wait a little time for it. A day 
maybe, so that I may find a companion or two 
who will go with you to Corte.” 

This was reasonable enough, and I consented 
to stay in Ajaccio until Nasone should deem it safe 


no KING FOR A SUMMER. 

for me to return to Cesario, and had found me com- 
panions with whom I should be secured from attack 
by the way. He promised to do this on the morrow, 
and after this he and I went through the lower part 
of the house, finding many things disturbed roughly, 
and very bitter were his denunciations against those 
who had done this. Nothing had been stolen, how- 
ever, and when he was satisfied that his goods were 
secure again, we returned to the upper room, and 
having hung a thick curtain before the broken 
casement, Nasone dragged the mattress from the 
closet, and bade me good night. We had carried 
the body of the dog out of sight, and only for the 
tramping of feet over the stones below, as the 
townspeople returned home, together with the sound 
of a laugh now and then or some loudly spoken 
words, the quietude of the street was undisturbed, 
and having bound his head with a great bandage 
Nasone went off to his bed-chamber. 


CHAPTER XIIT. 

ON THE ROAD TO CORTE. 

E arly next morning Nasone and I left the 
house together, and going down to the lower 
part of the town found that the excitement of 
which he had told me overnight had increased. 
Gatherings of the inhabitants had been interdicted 
by the governor of Ajaccio, and a company of 
Genoese soldiers was parading the principal streets, 
dispersing the little groups which had collected, the 
soldiers doing so with threatening words and blows 
when their orders were not quickly obeyed. But 
in spite of this, it was easy to see that a rising of 
the populace was imminent, and that only the absence 
of a leader hindered its outbreak. The order that 
no crowds should assemble raised the discontent 
and anger of the inhabitants to a high pitch, and 
whereas last night — so we learnt from someone 
with whom Nasone spoke — they had met and spoken 
freely, to-day it was only at the risk of one’s liberty 
that one’s voice might be heard. In the harbour 
lay three Genoese war vessels, and in the garrison 
were troops who needed only the command to fall 


zzx 


1 12 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


Upon the townsfolk, and thus it may be easily un- 
derstood that those in Ajaccio, to whom the news 
of the insurrection brought exulting hope and thirst 
for freedom, were duly cautious in their method of 
showing their delight. Some there were, however, 
who boldly and loudly denounced their Genoese 
oppressors, and in a small square of fishermen’s huts 
we found a little group of men whose eager excited 
talk would have consigned them to prison, had 
the governor of Ajaccio heard it. 

Nasone beckoned three of them to him and we 
went a little apart from the others, he speaking in 
an undertone. They were rough looking fellows, 
dressed as fishermen, and each was armed. 

“There is work for every man in Corsica,” said 
Nasone, “ but it does not lie in Ajaccio to be done 
at present. Yet between here and Bastia it has 
begun. Paoli and his friends have struck the first 
blow — who will join him in Corte?” 

“We are ready,” exclaimed the men in one breath. 

“ Then shall you go to him to-day, ” replied 
Nasone, “there is one,” and he touched me on the 
shoulder, “whom Paoli and his brave followers 
delivered from the fortress at Corte, which is in 
the hands of the Corsicans now and its governor 
driven away into Bastia. Will you go with this lad 
back to his friends?” 

“If there, is fighting to be shared,” grinned one 
of Nasone’s listeners, “and one may be allowed to 
hear the sound of one’s own voice, I am willing to 


ON THE ROAD TO CORTE. 


113 


go anywhere. What matters it, when the tax- 
gatherer has taken his plunder where one lives ! ” 

“Well spoken,” replied his companion, a gaunt 
fellow, with the longest arms that ever a man had 
yet, I thought. “ Remember how the widow Appel- 
lane was left with not even a three-legged stool to 
rest her body on. And that no later than a week 
since, I saw with my own eyes, the last thing that 
was in her house, carried away to be sold.” 

“ There was one thing which even a tax-gatherer 
could gain nothing by,” laughed the other, showing 
his teeth like an angry fox, “ and that was the curse 
that the widow sent after him.” 

“ And now has :ome the time when you and 
other brave men can take revenge for all the suffer- 
ing that these Genoese vultures have inflicted upon 
you, ” cried Nasone, “ let us hasten, then, back to my 
house, where you shall take food and wine ere you 
begin the journey to Corte.” 

There was no second invitation needed, and 
moving out frem the little square we went back 
to Nasone’s house. There he gave my new friends 
as much as they could eat and drink, and bidding 
me follow him to his room, entrusted to my charge 
a small bag of money. 

“ Take this to Cesario, ” he said, “ and with it the 
blessing of Emanuel ]\*atra. Say that I am willing 
to give every florir. I possess in the cause of Cor- 
sica’s liberation, and bid Cesario hold his hand when 
the muzzle of his gun is aimed at Fabiani Brasco. 

8 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


I14 

What is Cesario’s revenge, when I think of my own? ” 

He was trembling with ill-suppressed anger, and 
a look was in his eyes that made them blazing 
fires beneath his shaggy brows. 

“Two things are there for me to do,” he hissed 
out. “ One is to regain the writing which Fabiani 
Brasco stole from me, and the other is to see him 
fall dead at my feet as my poor dog lay dead.” 

I promised to deliver his message faithfully, and we 
went downstairs to where the three men sat impa- 
tiently waiting for the start to Corte. Nasone 
provided each of us with a gun, and shouldering 
these we went clattering over the uneven road on 
our way to join the army of insurgents. 

The long-armed man whose name was Gaspero 
walked beside me, his two comrades whose unkempt 
locks gave them the appearance of wild animals 
coming behind us, talking merrily. Of what nature 
these men would prove I had been given no time 
to find out, but there was an honest look in Gas- 
pero’s face which assured me that I had nothing to 
fear from him. I should have had an easier mind 
perhaps than was beating under my jacket at that 
moment, if the bag of money were in Cesario’s 
keeping already, but I banished the thought of it, 
and joined in the conversation. I had much to tell 
moreover of my adventures in Corte, and the story of 
Tortoni was listened to with gaping mouths. When 
it was ended Gaspero must needs shake me by the 
hand, saying it was the best story he had ever heard. 


ON THE ROAD TO CORTE. 


15 


“ Better even than the improvisatore*s, who had 
come from Italy and earned twenty soldos in half an 
hour by narrating the ‘history of Solomon’ in verse.” 

They were like children, these rough fellows who 
were travelling with me to fight under Castineta, 
and as easily amused, but it was not long before 
they showed themselves to be men, aye, and as brave 
as any who had fought for their country yet. 

On we went until the cottage I have mentioned 
before as standing at some distance from Ajaccio 
came in sight, and upon our reaching the spot, a 
confused sound was heard, as of a babble of voices. 
One of these was louder than the rest, as we stopped 
at the little gate which guarded the entrance to the 
cottager’s garden. 

“This is no merry making,” whispered Gaspero, 
“ and by the sound within there I recognise the tax- 
gatherer, ” and then the sounds of a woman’s beseech- 
ing voice were heard begging for pity. Without 
pausing we went towards the cottage and pushing 
open the door beheld a sight, common enough in 
Corsica, but strange to me. The tax-gatherer with 
his two assistants had seized the simple furniture 
belonging to the cottager who was absent, nor would 
the supplications of the weeping woman restrain 
the hard-hearted fellow. 

“ My husband will return before many hours,” she 
cried. “ He has gone to Ajaccio to be paid money 
which is owing him. He will give you every soldo 
of the taxv” 


Il6 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

“I cannot wait,” retorted the tax-gatherer giving 
a sneering laugh, “ and likely enough your husband 
will spend the money at the nearest tavern. Come 
then, carry out the bed yonder and borrow a cart 
from the shed, that I may have the goods taken to 
Ajaccio for sale.” 

There were several things piled in a heap ready 
to be carried off, and the woman gave a cry of 
despair. 

“ Will nothing hinder such cruelty, ” she exclaimed. 
“ Have we ever failed to pay these hateful taxes — 
why do you treat us thus?” 

“ Cease your railing, ” replied the tax-gatherer, “ or 
keep it for your husband, as do other wives. And 
mark you this, if these things do not fetch the sum 
needed I shall return and clap you and your husband 
into prison.” 

Gaspero gave a pull at his leather belt to tighten 
it, and without a word of warning — we had been 
standing behind the door unobserved — he was in the 
cottage, putting his gaunt figure between the aston- 
ished woman and her tormentor. 

“Yes,” said Gaspero, eyeing the tax-gatherer, “it 
is Signor Rota who is busy to-day. He whom the 
widow Appellane cursed.” 

“ Get you gone,” replied Signor Rota, beckoning 
to his two assistants. “I have nothing to do with 
such as you.” 

Gaspero made no answer, but stretching out his 
hairy arm took a great handful of the tax-gatherer’s 


ON THE ROAD TO CORTE. 117 

coat and skin in his grasp, and his companions 
with an easy manner held back the two assistants. 

“ Let go your hold, ” screamed Signor Rota. “ I 
am the law, and you are breaking the law in in- 
terfering. Let go, I say!” and he gave a screech, for 
Gaspero’s fingers had a grip like a wolfs fangs. 
“Open the door wide,” whispered Gaspero to me, 
and I gave it a kick to do so. 

“ You shall smart for this, ” screamed his victim, “ and 
that before long — take your hand out of my flesh.” 

“Be thankful that it is not on your throat,” 
growled Gaspero. “You had no mercy on this poor 
woman, nor on the widow,” and then he lifted the 
tax-gatherer as one might lift a cat, shaking him 
once before casting the yelling fellow through the 
open door. I think Signor Rota’s assistants would 
have run to his aid, but following Gaspero’s example 
my companions pushed them out of the cottage. 

It had happened so quickly that a roar of hoarse 
laughter lasted much longer than it had taken Gas- 
pero to rescue the cottager’s furniture from Signor 
Rota’s clutches. This indeed he had done, and when 
the tax-gatherer had scrambled out of a prickly thicket 
into which he had fallen, and was coming toward 
us foaming with rage, it was to meet the muzzle of 
Gaspero’s gun. 

“You are safe outside the cottage,” said Gaspero, 
“ and so get back to your masters, the Genoese. 
This is the reckoning hour for you and them, as you 
will learn before long.” 


Il8 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

The look of anger changed into one of astonish- 
ment as the tax-gatherer listened, and I dare say he 
would have liked to hear more. But neither of us 
were disposed to tell him of our journey or purpose, 
and we saw him and his assistants disappear in a 
few moments at a turn in the road. Then the 
woman, invoking a blessing on our heads, described 
the harsh cruelty to which she had been exposed. 

“We shall have the money ready when Signor 
Rota calls again,” she said, “my husband has gone 
for it as I told the unbelieving fellow.” 

“ I begin to think it will be a long time before 
Signor Rota comes to your cottage,” replied Gaspero, 
“and as for your husband, tell him to join us at 
Corte.” 

We stayed at the cottage until all fear of the 
return of the tax-gatherer had vanished. I had given 
up hope of reaching Corte that day, for it was 
already late, and so we resolved upon resting so 
soon as it fell dark, and lighting a fire by which 
to sleep. I was quite contented with my company 
now, for Gaspero was a man after Serafino^s own 
heart, and the others for all their moodiness were 
good-hearted fellows. I was confident, so having 
given a few words of advice to our hostess we 
resumed our interrupted journey. 

We went by the shorter road of the two that 
lead to the foot of Monte Rotondo, and this road 
I have already described, gaining the deepest part 
of it, where on either side the rocks frowned down 


ON THE ROAD TO CORTE. iig 

on US, with their gaping openings black on the 
waning daylight. Gaspero had turned to one of his 
companions, asking a merry question, for we had 
been laughing again as we spoke of Signor Rota, 
when suddenly not twenty yards before us stood 
a line of soldiers and a loud voice commanded us 
to stop. 


CH/VPTER XIV. 


A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. 

I T was impossible to do anything other than obey 
the peremptory order, for the soldiers formed a 
line across the narrow road and on either side of 
them were the rocks. Gaspero remained a moment 
in thought and I clutched the money bag despair- 
ingly. For even if we were not brought back to 
Ajaccio as prisoners, the money that had been en- 
trusted to my safe-keeping would be taken away 
from me. Quick as the thought had come I slipped 
aside from the others into one of the black openings 
that I have already stated were in the face of the 
craggy rocks, and Gaspero was with me. Just one 
glance behind to see that the other two men had 
vanished also as by magic and we found ourselves 
groping blindly into the depths of the opening, 
my hand coming against strangely horrible soft things 
that were clinging to the damp sides of the cave 
and dropped at my touch. I heard a viper hiss 
as it clung to my leg for a moment before I could 
shake the ’ venomous reptile from me, and evil birds 
that shun daylight, disturbed by our movements, 


120 


A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. 


12 


came whirring past my face. Yet with all these 
horrors in the path we crept on, getting deeper 
and deeper into the cave, and hearing behind us the 
trampling feet of the soldiers who were in pursuit. 

“Hark!” and Gaspero put his hand forward against 
my arm. “There comes one of those rascally 
Genoese — a place such as this is not one to struggle 
in,” and before I knew of his intention Gaspero 
had fired his gun behind us and there was a sob- 
bing cry mingling with the dull crash of the report. 
Then the footsteps appeared to stagger over the 
uneven track which we were traversing, and all Wcia 
silent again. 

How far we had gone and in what direction the 
cave went, we could not tell, but I remember that 
as we moved forward again the path ascended, 
becoming narrower at every step, however, until at 
last the sides of the cave seemed closing in on 
me. I felt this, for not a ray of light could penetrate 
into that awful place of black solitude, and my 
breath came back on my face from the rocks as I 
turned once or twice. The air too was hot and 
stifling so that I could hardly breathe, and dread- 
ing to proceed further I called to my companion, 
who was panting a little way from me. 

“ Gaspero, ” I gasped, “ The rocks are closing in 
upon us, we can go no further into the cave.” 

“ Then we must remain here, ” he answered, “ for 
there is no getting out. The soldiers will be watch- 
ing for us and that means our death,” 


122 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“ Better to be captured than die here,** I replied, 
feeling as though a heavy load were on my breast 
hindering my voice, and Gaspero made no answer. 

The moments went slowly by amid the deathly 
silence and suffocating air that surrounded us, and 
a thrill of indescribable horror passed through me 
as lifting my hand it touched the roof of the cave. 
On either side, above and below, the rocks were 
crushing me, and it was as though I had been 
buried alive. Better to face whatever my fate might 
be, so that I could see daylight and breathe the 
fresh air once more, than to die thus, and stooping 
I crawled back to Gaspero. I was gasping out 
some words to him, when there came the sound 
of footsteps stealthily approaching us; nearer and 
nearer they came, and I felt Gaspero’s arm move 
upward in the act of levelling his gun. Crash ! and 
with a report that threatened to rend the very rocks 
themselves, a bullet went on its deadly errand and 
through the choking smoke came the scream of a 
wounded man. 

The flash of the discharge lighted up Gaspero’s 
sternly set face and the narrow space in which we 
stood, and then darkness came blinding me again. 
For a moment or two the powder smoke clung to 
my face, hindering my breath, but suddenly the 
thick sulphurous vapour passed away followed by 
the pure air, and quick as Itie flash of fire came a 
thought across my brain. 

“ There must be an opening higher up, ” I cried, 


A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. 


123 


seizing Gaspero’s arm. “The wind drives through 
the cave — let us go on,” and dropping on my knees 
fearing to strike against the low roof I went forward, 
knowing that Gaspero was close behind me, and 
that the smoke from his gun had cleared away. 
On we went, the path narrowing until I could feel 
the rocks on either side although I held my arms 
extended; on, touching the roof more than once, yet 
my body was bent, crawling like a snake ; on until 
the power to move my bruised limbs had well nigh 
failed me, and to turn my head was impossible, and 
then when the horror of that living tomb had numbed 
my senses to every other pain, there came into my 
despairing eyes the sight of daylight, shining through 
a narrow chink and filtering down the path to a 
dozen feet beyond me. 

The light of day, but alas it showed that between 
us and the narrow opening the cruel rocks closed, 
leaving space scarcely wide enough tor a fox to 
have passed through. But the attempt must be 
made to reach the opening, and free ourselves. 
There were dangers not to be faced should we 
retreat, the soldiers would be guarding the entrance 
to the cave, and once in their clutches our fate 
would be sealed. There was only one way of escape, 
and hopeless as the struggle seemed we pressed 
upward to the cleft in the rock. 

I felt the sheepskin coat tearing from my body 
as I crawled, but I gave no heed to that ; my hands 
were cut and bleeding, yet I experienced no pain 


124 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


as I grasped each projection and gained progress. 
It seemed as though the next movement must be 
the last I could make to gain that strip of daylight, 
but despair gave me strength. Inch by inch I 
came nearer the goal, until it was almost within my 
reach — nearer yet and my finger tips were on the 
broken stones which edged the opening. I was 
saved, for with a last effort I had dragged myself 
upward and stood trembling with excitement upon 
a narrow ledge, from whence I could look down to 
the road fifty feet below, and see the figures of the 
soldiers distinctly. As I glanced downward, a muf- 
fled groan came from the opening and Gaspero’s 
voice supplicating my help. He was bigger than 
I, and the space which allowed me to pass through 
was not sufficient for him. 

Giving a word of encouragement I began hewing 
the rock with my stiletto, pushing the blade between 
the little cracks that here and there surrounded the 
opening. Little by little I made it larger, digging 
down toward my companion who with his strong 
fingers aided my efforts, yet although we worked 
with desperation there was but little progress made 
to release him. One stubborn piece of rock that 
prevented his passing seemed to defy us, and it was 
just as I felt this last obstacle loosen its hold, that 
a cry came from the soldiers who were guarding 
the entrance by which we had escaped, and I knew 
that I was discovered. Then a bullet smashed against 
the rock not a yard from my head, but as it did so 



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A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. 


125 


the obstacle to Gaspero’s escape moved from its place, 
and lifting it in my hands I dashed it down full 
upon the soldiers. I cannot say what happened to 
them in consequence, for the next instant my com- 
panion had drawn his long body upright, and we 
were creeping along the ledge ; there was a volley 
of bullets hissing round us, and we had gained a refuge 
at last. To have reached us would have been im- 
possible, for the rocks were as though a knife had 
cleft them apart so steep were they, and the ledge 
led us out of sight of our enemies. 

But the danger was not yet surmounted, for the 
path went downward until it joined the road a hun- 
dred yards beyond the entrance to the cave, where 
we had left the soldiers, nor was there any other 
way by which we might have gone. There was only 
that narrow path, and down it we ran, reaching the 
main road, to be seen immediately and followed by 
the enemy. We were well in advance of them, 
however, and although a shot or two were sent after 
us, we were not touched, and running as only 
those who had death behind them could have run 
we disappeared at a welcome turn in the road. 
We had not shaken off our pursuers, however, for 
we could hear their footsteps, and it was when I 
was so spent with fatigue that I had stumbled more 
than once, that Gaspero suddenly stopped. 

“ It is fair war between us and the Genoese now, ” 
he said, “ and the fighting Nasone promised is begun.” 

“ But we shall be captured, ” I cried, making an 


126 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


effort to begin running again. “Let us get on 
Gaspero.” 

“ Rather keep those who are behind from follow 
ing us, ” and as he said this Gaspero went swiftly 
to where a great boulder — such as I had seen 
amongst the hills beyond Monte Rotondo — lay at 
the wayside. And hidden by this from the sight 
of our enemies we waited for them, with our guns 
pointing straight along the way they must come. 

Two. They came running side by side, their fierce 
eager eyes straight before them to catch sight of 
their prey; the heavy dress of the Genoese soldiers 
hindering them not one whit. Trained, hardy fighters 
were those two men, with whom neither Gaspero 
nor I could have coped, valiant fellows enough, for 
aught we knew, who had seen death and battle in 
plenty maybe, and who feared neither, but their 
doom was sealed. There was a double report and 
one of the soldiers flinging up his arms, staggered 
and fell with his face in the dust, but the other ran 
on. Only there was a change in his eager face that 
I could see, for he reached to within a yard of us, 
as Gaspero and I remained standing out from the 
shelter of the boulder after firing, and we saw him 
draw his sword; yet as he did this there went a 
shiver through his body, a sudden wild unearthly 
yell broke from his lips and down in a heap that 
turned red with blood as by some magic touch, he 
fell. Without a second look, nor thought, we were 
running again and the fast falling shadows came 


A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. 


127 


hiding the path we had traversed, and shielding us 
from further pursuit that night. 

We were too fatigued to reach Corte without 
resting, and so, having assured ourselves that we 
were safe from our enemies we lay down beneath 
the shelter of some trees, fearing to risk lighting a 
fire, and it was not until we had done this that I 
remembered Gaspero’s companions. 

“ Leave them to escape, ” he said, “ for none know 
better than they how to evade the law. And if 
they are not already seated in Don Angelini’s wine 
shop at Ajaccio safe and unhurt I shall be much 
deceived.” 

So we hoped it might be so, and began talking 
of the insurrection that was in full progress, or why 
had the soldiers hindered us, I asked. 

“ You must ask the tax-gatherer for your answer,” 
replied Gaspero. “ He sent those villainous soldiers 
upon us.” 

However, that mattered little now, and hugging 
the bag that was beneath my torn coat close to 
me we remained resting until the dawn came. Then 
we started for Corte, reaching it early in the day 
and finding Cesario anxiously awaiting my return. 


CHAPTER XV. 


SERAFINO'S STORY. 

C ORTE was humming like a bee-hive on a summer 
day as Gaspero and I came to it. There had been 
a council of war held, and the full significance of 
the revolt against the Genoese was clearly to be 
seen. Cesario told me many things of what had 
happened since my leaving him, and not the least 
of these was that he had been made Colonel of a 
regiment, and Serafino a sergeant. Corte would be 
the headquarters of the patriot army, and already 
great numbers of the peasantry and mountaineers 
had gathered there, ready and eager for the march 
upon the Genoese strongholds. He listened at- 
tentively whilst I narrated my adventures in Ajaccio, 
and nodded his head gravely when I gave him 
Nasone’s message, touching Cesario’s long- cherished 
revenge against Fabiani Brasco. 

“ Nasone was asking a harder thing than he 
thinks when he sent that message to me,” replied 
he, “ and I cannot promise to hold my hand. But 
neither he nor I will have our opportunity for 
vengeance yet. 


SERAFINO'S STORY. 


129 


“Fabiani and his son have joined the Genoese 
in Bastia, I have learnt, and it may be long months 
before I have my chance.” 

“And what of Signor Poli?” I asked. “Have 
you learned this news from him?” 

Cesario burst into a laugh. “ You shall hear 
from Serafino,” was the answer; and when he had 
carried the bag of money to the house where Paoli, 
Castineta, and others of our brave leaders sat in 
anxious consultation, and had offered it in the 
service of his countrymen — it was a goodly sum, 
I remember, and the more acceptable, seeing that 
money was very scarce and greatly needed — we 
went to the little inn which was close beneath the 
castle wall, and here we found Serafino in the 
midst of a dozen men, seated round the table. 
Gaspero was next to him, and it was easy to see 
that he and Serafino were friends already. 

We joined the group, and with Stefan o, the 
landlord, and the one-eyed cobbler, of whom our 
companion had often spoken, looking on, Serafino 
told us how he had searched Corte through to find 
the notary. 

“ And a more dangerous piece of business never 
yet have I undertaken, ” he said ; “ for it is not 
every notary who has a she-dragon for housekeeper, 
and it was no less an animal that I encountered at 
Signor Poli’s.” 

And Serafino, sipping his mug of wine, drew a 
long breath. 


9 


130 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


• What happened when you saw her ? ” demanded 
the one-eyed cobbler, dragging his patch over the 
empty socket whence it had gone aside. “How 
did you fare ? ” 

“How did I fare indeed?” repeated Serafino in 
a more serious tone than I had ever heard him 
speak. “ But badly, worthy old cobbler of shoes — 
badly. Because regard this, I had knocked so 
gently at the door of the notary’s house, that only 
one panel had cracked under the blow, and was 
waiting soberly — aye I was even singing — upon 
the step, when the door sprang open like an earth- 
quake, and before I could withstand the assault, I was 
being dragged into the passage by the dragon.” 

“ Of what sort was it, Serafino ? ” asked one of 
his hearers. 

“ Imagine then, a furious head of hair, that shook 
like the leaves of a cork-tree when the wind rushes 
through them; a face such as would serve as a 
model for the face of Santa Ingoma, the martyr 
of Calvi; arms such as do wear the venomous 
fish which drown men, and a voice — oh but I must 
have my cup filled again, before I describe that 
same voice.” 

Cesario pushed a brimming mug to him and 
Serafino drank a deep draught. 

“ Aye, I was at the voice,” he said, smacking his 
lips, “ But I am at a loss to find words to describe 
it. Have any one of you ever heard the cry ot a 
mad fox ? ” 


SERAFINO’S STORY. 


I31 

The row of heads round the table all shook as 
one. Nobody had heard the cry of a mad fox. 

“Then consider it the sweetest music in compar- 
ison with that she-dragon’s voice,” continued Sera- 
fino solemnly. “And there was I, closely shut in 
the narrow passage with her, almost trembling for 
my safety, and when I asked to see the notary, 
I had good cause for fear. I disguised the nature 
of my business with him — it was to pay my debt 
for all Signor Poli had done for me, and I will 
not hide that from you — but the dragon’s eye saw 
my intention. Without a word of warning those 
fish-fins of hers darted out, and I was scratched — 
oh, but it is no laughing matter, scratched in a 
way that only time will cure.” 

I glanced at Serafino’s face and down it were 
half-a-dozen or more long red marks. 

“Santa Pretorina,” he exclaimed, “how that 
woman reviled me. ‘ Signor Poli forsooth ! ’ cried 
she, ‘who but he has been driven from his home 
by those who will bring destruction upon the town, 
and he has gone, leaving not so much as a soldo 
in the house, nor food.’ 

“ And from what I could make out of her splut- 
tering talk,” added Serafino, “It seems that Signor 
Poli owed her a year’s wages, and was gone, like 
a thief, away from Corte, never to return. I was 
the first upon whom her wrath fell, and may I 
face a thousand men before I meet such another 
enemy as Signor Poli’s housekeeper.” 


132 KING FOR A SUMMER, 

When Serafino had ended his story his high 
spirits came back to him, but it was clear that the 
notary had fled, dreading the vengeance of the 
three bandits whom he had betrayed. Massoni, 
whose anger against him was deepest, for all the 
silence he kept over it, had gone in the direction 
of Bastia to seek him — and it needed not to doubt 
what Massoni’s vengeance would mean. However, 
Angellone — this was the more frequently used name 
for the notary — had disappeared, and walking away 
from the tavern which Serafino declared was too 
pleasant a place to leave, Cesario and I talked 
upon the subject of my cousin’s crimes, and the 
disastrous results to me which would follow the 
stealing of my father’s will. 

“ Fabiani and his son have joined with the Genoese, 
as I told you,” said Cesario, “and this is no time 
for trusting to the laws for help. What the end 
of the revolt will be no man in Corsica can tell, 
but we have valiant leaders, and the sacred cause 
of liberty to fight for.” 

And then we went together up the steep hill to 
the fortress, seeing how fierce had been the onslaught 
upon it, and what damage the strong walls had 
sustained. There was the grated window of the 
cell where we had been imprisoned, and passing in 
by the gates which men were busily engaged in 
repairing and restoring to their positions, Cesario 
and I went through the narrow passages and out 
on to the keep, from whence we could see the 


SERAFINO’S STORY. 


133 


town lying at our feet, the gathering patriots making 
its ordinarily quiet streets gay with movement and 
sound. In an open space at a little distance were 
men going through some warlike exercises, and 
over the keep fluttered the long-hidden flag of Cor- 
sica. Strong hands were fortifying the castle, and 
stout hearts kept watch and ward, and as we gazed 
around there came floating up to us the refrain of 
that song I had heard first when I met Serafino 
in the mountains, and his leather lungs had poured 
out ^'■Eterna faremo vendetta^ ” until the rocks re- 
echoed the words. 

Cesario has been made a colonel, as I have said, 
and it was in his company that f was enrolled as 
a soldier, when after our visit to the castle, we went 
down into the town. There was no change, how- 
ever, in his dress, nor in mine, to distinguish us, 
nor were those who flocked to join the standard 
of revolt marked out from their countrymen except 
by the enthusiasm which made each a gallant warrior. 
Love for his family — love for his country, served 
doubly to replace the absence of glittering uniforms, 
and long-suffered oppression made every Corsican 
a deadly foe to his oppressors, for from Corte 
marched an army which even the Genoese rulers 
of the island dreaded to encounter. I heard of as- 
sistance being asked of and expected from the King 
of Spain, but of this I can only repeat what Cesario 
told me. I remember that by public decree the 
image of the Holy Virgin was displayed on our 


134 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


banners, and under this the Corsicans were to fight 
many a bloody battle, and conquer in them too. 
I remember the crush and turmoil which never 
ceased, day nor night, in Corte, whilst we lingered 
there impatiently preparing for the campaign against 
our enemies, and the many straits we were put to 
in finding provisions. 

And a great deal more than this I might relate 
of that insurrection and its leaders, were it my pur- 
pose so to do. But I am more concerned in relating 
my own share in it and the never-to-be-forgotten 
adventures wherein my companions and I took part, 
together with the marvellous events that marked 
its ending, and therefore I will not pause to describe 
more than how some days after my return to Corte, 
I marched out of the town with Cesario Arrighi at 
the head of our troop, and Serafino who was the 
most stalwart sergeant ever seen in Corsica, keeping 
what order he could amongst us. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


HOW WE TOOK ALERIA. 

T hrough the country we went, encamping 
at nightfall without fear or thought of being 
surprised or attacked by the enemy, and the 
next day continued our march towards the fortress 
of Aleria, which was strongly garrisoned by the 
Genoese. The revolt was spreading quickly, and 
news came that already Ajaccio was threatened by 
the Corsicans, and that Bonefacio and Calvi were 
in hourly expectation of an attack by our fellow 
patriots, led by the gallant Giafferi against the latter 
place, he having returned to the island whilst the 
council of w^r was being held at Corte. 

It was midday when the Corsicans came within 
sight of the fortress Aleria, and a halt was called. 
In the same rank as I had marched Massoni — he 
had been unsuccessful in his search for Angellone, 
as might have been expected — and Vincento with 
Gasper o at his side, and we were merry enough. 
Of Cesario I had seen but little, he keeping at the 
head of the company, but Serafino was for ever 
forgetting his new position of sergeant, joining in 
135 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


136 

the ranks quite regardless of discipline. Indeed, of 
this latter there was very little, each of us doing 
it pleased him, our commanders fully satisfied by 
the quick advance we made toward the first struggle 
with the Genoese. That Serafino and his companions, 
Massoni and Cesario, were banished and sentenced 
to death, was overlooked and forgotten, I suppose, 
by the leaders of the revolt, for how else could 
Cesario have been given the office of Colonel. Nor 
were these the only bandits who had come from 
their hiding-places to fight against the common 
enemy, for one was pointed out to me whom people 
called Bracciamozzo — which means cripple-armed — 
who had done worse things than Serafino or my 
other friends. I recollect seeing him striding away 
with the rest of us, his stony face thrust forward, 
his skull that was the shape of a negro’s, being 
thick enough to have been used as an anvil. Why 
I say this is because before that day was over of 
which I am writing, Bracciamozzo showed the 
strength and thickness of his skull once and for 
ever to us, who were near him later on. They 
said that he had rid himself of twelve men in his 
vendetta, and this in less than two years, which time 
he had been alone in the mountains. 

Gaspero and Vincento talked together I remember, 
each having a thousand grievances against the 
Genoese tax-gatherers, whilst Massoni held silence 
as he paced grim-faced beside them. He was always 
somewhat morose, and since his imprisonment in the 


HOW WE TOOK ALERIA. 


137 


castle of Corte seemed to have lost the power of 
speech well nigh ; so I was left to Serafino who talked 
and laughed during the march unceasingly. 

“This campaign,” he told me behind his great 
hand, “ought to bring me great honour and rich- 
ness, for it is in my mind to capture Felix Pinelli 
single-handed. He that is governor of Bastia and 
has a heart like the very rock itself. Give me the 
chance and he shall be my prisoner — he served 
a kinsman of mine scurvily only a year since, and 
I will call that to mind when my grasp is upon 
Felix Pinelli.” 

“Is this fortress of Aleria a strong place?” I 
asked. “How many Genoese are there defending 
it, think you?” 

“Report says it is as full as a wasp’s nest,” he 
answered. “ and because it stands awkwardly on the 
road to Bastia, it is best to destroy it and those 
who are behind its walls at the same time. As 
to how many there may be of them, I did not 
trouble to enquire. What I have said, was told me 
by a toothless old fellow in Corte, who was so aged 
that he could talk of events that happened a hundred 
years ago when the Greeks were here— of Stepha- 
nopolus, their leader, and of the Turks, who drove 
the Mainotes from, their home on the Gulf of 
Colocynthia, and a score of other things, but being 
obliged to mumble out his words the tottering old 
man may have told lies for ought I know. Hply 
Santa Francesco of Persia, but this talking makes one 


138 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

like a parched chestnut, so here’s to the health of 
every man within hearing,” and Serafino put his 
wine gourd to his mouth, handing me the vessel 
presently and what remained in it, which to tell the 
truth was but a scanty sup. 

It was midday then when we gained a view of 
Aleria, with its gaunt castle frowning at us from 
the distance, the ensign of Genoa waving blood-red 
against the green of the trees. It was scarcely 
more than a huge tower, built foursided, but its 
strength might prove very great, and a consultation 
was held by our leaders as to the attack. We had 
no artillery, therefore the castle would have to be 
carried by assault, and for that purpose scaling 
ladders had been brought. We numbered at most 
not more than two hundred men, the rest of the 
insurgents who had gathered in Corte having departed, 
some in the direction of Ajaccio, and some toward 
Calvi, leaving a strong force to guard Corte itself. 
The duty of reducing Aleria had been given to us, 
and I doubt whether better men could have been 
chosen for the task than my comrades. There was 
very little talk now, every eye and thought being 
upon that grim fortress which was to be wrested 
from our enemies. There was the chance moreover, 
that a force might be marching from Bastia against 
us, and for that reason no time was lost in attack- 
ing the stronghold. Already the conflict had begun, 
for a cannon shot came growling through the air, and 
then another which buried itself in the earth that 


HOW WE TOOK ALERIA. 


139 


showered upon Gaspero as he stooped to fasten a 
strap on his boot. Cesario passed along our ranks, 
calling me to follow him, and I stepped along by 
his side. 

“ There is other business than getting killed here, 
for you and me,” he said. “Fabiani and his son 
are in Bastia. I heard that in Corte; and so keep 
beside me, Camilla, for we have to speak with 
Fabiani Brasco before long.” 

I forget what I answered, being too excited by 
the prospect that was before us, doubting whether 
even our two. hundred men could capture the 
castle. The walls, buttressed at the corners, went 
up to the height of twenty feet or higher, form- 
ing a rampart before the tower, which stood 
within and was double the height of the outer walls. 
By Cesario’s order we separated into six companies, 
and using every point of defence which the trees 
and uneven surface of the earth offered us ran 
forward, losing a few of our men the while, for 
the cannonade was briskly maintained from the 
castle, and at last were close to the walls, safe 
from the shots that went screaming and growling 
over our heads harmlessly. 

The outer walls were without loopholes, neither 
was there any sign of entrance through them ; 
sheer upward they went, smooth and bare, and I 
could see that a distance of a dozen yards or less 
lay between them and the stout fortress within the 
square; and from the summit of the fortress, from 


140 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


deep-set casemates, from behind the shelter of a 
little 'tower that rose at the point where the square 
turned, there was poured upon us volley after volley 
of musketry shot. But we were so closely huddled 
beneath the rampart that the fire did no execution 
amongst us, and with a few sharp words of command, 
all four sides were attacked at once. The scaling 
ladders were reared, and for all that Cesario had 
warned me to preserve my life, he was the first to 
risk his. The tall ladder had no sooner rested it- 
self against the wall, than with a shout answered 
again and again by his eager followers Cesario was 
climbing up it, and every step gave foothold to 
another brave man. So great was the weight upon 
the ladder that it bent and swayed, yet of that none 
of the eager assailants gave heed, and it was when 
Cesario’s hands were clinging to the top of the wall 
that I found myself mid- way after him, using the 
brawny shoulder of a companion as a help toward 
the summit. There was a fierce struggle to reach 
this and the ladder was creaking and bending, threat- 
ening every instant to fall under the great weight 
that was upon it; but as it seemed sinking beneath 
my feet, I was on the topmost step, with Cesario’s 
hands on my wrists — and then I was beside him, 
seeing a crowd of our fellow-soldiers on the wall 
that was on our right, who had gained the summit 
a few seconds before us, and were dragging up 
their heavy ladder in order to descend into the 
square. 


HOW WE TOOK ALERIA. 


141 


Like thick hail the musket balls fell upon and 
around us, and recalling to mind these few breath- 
less moments when with Cesario like one possessed 
with fury beside me, we stood bare and defenceless 
upon the top of the wall, exposed to the volleying 
musketry, I have marvelled that even one of us 
escaped death. As it was, the men fell quickly, 
rolling off from the wall, with strange, unnatural 
sounds or in silence, as the case might be, but 
having their places filled the next instant by their com- 
rades. Then we had hoisted the ladder, and lowered 
it into the inner side of the square, whilst down it 
we poured, and with the eagerness of wild beasts for 
their prey had reached the main fortress. 

The entrance was by a stout gate, guarded by 
thick iron bars and studded with huge nail heads; 
and before this from each side did we flock. Those 
of the enemy who had resisted our approach, and 
had been stationed upon the walls, had disappeared 
like a fleck of froth upon the sea sands, trampled 
and beaten into nothingness by the first who had 
gained the summit of the rampart, and we were 
unhindered in our assault upon the entrance, but 
the gate was so strongly built that it resisted the 
attack for some moments. We were too close to 
the fortress for those defending it to fire upon us, 
and for a time there was opportunity to note what 
was passing around me. I saw Cesario, his eyes 
glistening with enthusiasm, ordering the attack 
upon the gate, and above the din of voices and 


142 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


heavy trampling of feet, Serafino’s voice rang out 
loudly. Beside me was Massoni, his face all blood- 
stained, and with him Bracciamozzo, bareheaded 
and fierce as a bull. Of my other friends I saw 
nothing, and the thought that they might have 
fallen brought such a sudden fierce anger upon me 
that I forgot them and myself ; the deadly encounter 
that would follow when the gate had fallen; all 
power of command over my actions, and only a 
wild, indescribable fury filled me, such as I had 
never felt before. To reach the foe, to be face to 
face with those whose guns had sent so many of 
us to death, were the only thoughts I was capable 
of, and then I was helping with a crowd of others 
in driving the heavy scaling ladder against the 
gate. With thunderous blows that nothing could 
resist for long, we sent it again and again upon 
the massive woodwork that answered with a dull 
reverberation, as the hinges were being riven from 
their solid hold in the stone. 

Like madmen we ran the long ladder backward 
and forward, giving scarce room to those who were 
doing the like, shouting and cheering as the gate 
split into long jagged rents, yet holding together 
by its iron bands, gaining strength with every blow 
to make the next a heavier one — and then with a 
crash the gate was down and we were crowding 
into the fortress, fighting hand to hand with its 
defenders, and driving them backward to the narrow 
stairway, trampling over dead and wounded, amid 


HOW WE TOOK ALERIA. 


143 


such cries and shouts of victory or pain that the 
confined space wherein we fought seemed filled 
with them and left no room to breathe in. There 
was the scent of blood on the close air, the grey 
walls were reddened with it, faces white with passion 
changed to crimson as they fell from sight; there 
was the strange, hissing sound when a furious fighter 
dealt his blows, and as upon the surface of a swift 
current we who had first entered that passage of 
ghastly death and fury were borne along. The 
stairway was gained, our opponents were retreating, 
and following them, mounting over the dead they had 
left, we were at the first story of the fortress. 

It was from this part that the musketry fire had 
been the heaviest upon us and done most execution. 
There was room within the casemate for twenty 
men or more, and this space was filled with our 
enemies, tightly packed together. It was the rem- 
nant of those who had defended the passage, and 
quarter was neither expected nor asked for by either 
these or ourselves. A volley was poured into us 
as we reached the room, and if it had been possible 
to increase the fury of the Corsicans that useless 
discharge would have done so. We were demons, not 
human beings at that moment, and it was then that 
Bracciamozzo proved his strength and courage. 

With a growl he thrust himself foremost of the 
crowd, and going on his hands and knees to escape 
the musket shots Bracciamozzo was in the room. 
I saw his stiletto flash and bury itself deep into 


144 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


the breast of one of the Genoese, and the quick 
twisting wrench with which the weapon was with- 
drawn; I saw an uplifted musket crash down upon 
his skull and the thud was as though the blow had 
fallen upon stone, and yet for all that the butt of 
the musket splintered, Bracciamozzo remained up- 
right. There was a gaping wound from his crown 
to brow, and the blood spouted out, but the next 
instant his stiletto had reached his assailant’s heart, 
and as though possessed of the strength of a dozen 
men at once, Bracciamozzo had cleared himself of 
his foes for a yard around him. I saw all this as 
one sees a flash of summer lightning, and then we 
were in the room, slaying our enemies. There was 
no space for firearms to be used, but face to face, 
and hand to hand, dagger and sword did their 
work. How long that deadly struggle lasted I 
cannot say, but suddenly there was a silence. 
Bleeding and breathless I reeled against the side 
of the room that was filled with the dead and dying 
and heard Cesario’s hoarse voice in my ear. 

I know not what he said, but I guessed his 
meaning — there was more fighting higher up in the 
fortress and the aid of all who remained able to 
give it was needed there. Slipping across the blood- 
stained floor, stumbling over a body that writhed 
as my foot touched it, seeing remembered faces pass 
me that seemed as if they had returned from the 
grave, and with a confused sense of pain about me 
I followed him, casting one look behind me at a 


HOW WE TOOK ALERIA. 


145 


sight which I can never forget. The noise of battle 
had gone, the strife and tumult were ended, and a 
quietude more awful and impressive than these had 
come. How many lay dead in heaps, friend and 
foe together, I cannot say, and the shafts of sunlight 
that entered through the window of the room, rested 
upon their gashed and bleeding bodies mournfully. 
And crouched against the wall as though preparing 
for his deadly spring upon the foe, was Braccia- 
mozzo, his blood-stained skull turned from me a 
little. Cesario was calling me by my name, but 
I paused for a second to put my hand on the 
fellow, and as I did this he rolled over, showing 
his rent and reeking breast and face, and the glazed 
eyes that glowed blindly up to mine were the most 
horrible sight I beheld during that time of horror 
and bloodshed. 

Upon the roof of the fortress the remnant of its 
Genoese garrison stood at bay, and the most des- 
perate encounter of that day was in full progress 
as I ran up the steps leading to the roof, but the 
press of my companions was so great at this point 
that I was unable to join Cesario who had gained 
a position higher up. The Genoese were defending 
the approach to their retreat, and again and again 
we were driven backward, each repulse being 
followed by a fiercer assault than the previous one. 
There was a short flight of wooden steps rising 
from the spot I had reached and it was at the top 
of these that death was busiest. In a mass so 


10 


146 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


compact that their weapons were useless, stood the 
Corsicans, maybe thirty of them; upon the wooden 
steps and through the opening above them were 
the last of the garrison, hewing at the first ranks 
of their foe, slashing and thrusting deep into the 
mass of men that were forced tightly up by those 
below; and those of the Genoese who could find 
no space for swordwork, fired upon us from over 
their companions’ shoulders and through every open- 
ing in which a musket could be aimed. Our men 
were falling in clusters, and in that confined space 
the firing created such confusion by its thundering 
reports, that it deafened me. 

Yet to gain that last retreat of the Genoese and 
finish the slaughter of them, was the purpose of 
every Corsican, and though death was thinning our 
ranks each moment, and sickening wounds made 
many a valiant fighter helpless, we strove on. I 
was on the steps, seeing through the smoke the 
brawny figure of Serafino above me, and then wuth 
a hoarse cheer there was a sudden rush upward, 
a momentary resistance at the opening, the falling 
back of blood-stained corpses — and we had gained 
the roof at last. 

Then with a quickness almost incredible our foe 
had gone. Crashing down from each side of the 
square roof the Genoese were hurled, and this by 
less than their own number of assailants. There 
were thirty of the garrison, and not more than twenty 
Corsicans had succeeded in reaching them. But 


HOW WE TOOK ALERIA. 


147 


they were twenty men, maddened with the sight 
of blood, strong as giants with rage and burning 
for revenge ; and stabbed backward to the low 
parapet, the last of the garrison were sent headlong 
to the earth, ^nd the Corsicans were masters of the 
fortress. 

Of its former guardians not one remained alive, their 
dead bodies lying within and without the bloodreeking 
walls, but our victory had been dearly bought — of 
the two hundred who had begun the assault scarcely 
a hundred witnessed its ending. With a gashed 
throat Vincento was discovered beneath a heap of 
slain, and lying at the foot of the wooden steps I 
found Gaspero dying. He tried to speak to me 
but had not strength remaining even for that, and 
I crossed his hands as the last spark of life fled. 

I found Cesario in the lower part of the fortress, 
and with him Serafino who was bandaging his 
own wounds in a clumsy fashion, holding one end 
of the strip of linen with his teeth, and he gave a 
mumbling kind of cheer as I came into the room. 

“You are one of those who have got through to- 
day with your life,” he cried as best he ^ould with 
that mouthful of linen between his teeth. “ I made 
sure a lank Genoese had spitted you — he was doing 
his best to that end.” 

“ I do not remember it,” I answered wearily, for my 
strength was spent. “ Why did he not kill me ? ” 

“ Cesario will tell you,” grinned Serafino, and I 
glanced at our newly-made colonel. 


148 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“ Twas nothing,” replied be, “ and there are more 
important matters to talk about than a lean Genoese 
or two.” 

“Nothing, say you?” exclaimed Serafino, who 
had bound up one wound and was regarding the 
next thoughtfully. “ If you had saved my life as 
you saved Camilla’s, noble Colonel Arrighi, I should 
call it a very important matter.” 

I tried to speak the thanks that were in my 
heart. I recollected the tall Genoese now and how 
his sword had nearly reached my throat when we 
were fighting on the steps, and how he had fallen 
backward with a choking cry, struck dead by my 
unknown preserver. Yet even in the act of recall- 
ing the event, my memory went straying again. 
I was wounded, and Serafino, when he had ended 
his own bandaging, helped to dress my hurts ; but of 
our state when the fierce fighting was over I need 
not stay to describe. 

Our first work was to restore the gate to its 
position, for we might have the task of defending 
our prize before long possibly, and when the heavy 
woodwork had been raised and secured we sacked 
the castle, finding ample supplies of food and wine, 
and with these we refreshed ourselves. And then 
by Cesario’s order we drew up, maimed and bruised, 
ragged and besmirched, beneath the walls of the 
rampart, in a disorderly row. 

We numbered seventy-five, and some of the 
brave Corsicans who answered to their name, uttered 


HOW WE TOOK ALERIA. 


149 


it with their last breath, falling dead as they 
spoke. Five there were who died thus, and those 
who answered not were dead already, their blood 
soaking the earth or staining the steps and pas- 
sages of the fortress their gallantry had helped to 
conquer. 


CHAPTER XVIL 


IN BASTIA. 

W E remained two days at Aleria, when a 
reinforcement from Corte joined us, and 
under the command of one of the chief 
men in the insurrection quitted the fortress, after 
setting fire to it. We had buried the slain, friend 
and foe together, and those whose wounds were 
most severe, found a resting place and ready 
helpers in a village at some short distance from 
Aleria. 

“We have more work at hand waiting to be 
done,” Serafino told me as I marched along beside 
him, “Yet I doubt whether it will be harder to 
accomplish than the taking of the fortress yonder,” 
and he pointed to where the thick smoke clouds 
marked the place of our stern and bloody victory. 
“ It was a tough tree to fell.” 

“ What work do you mean ? ” I asked, “ and 
which way are we going to it ? ” 

“Nothing less than subduing the town of Bastia,” 
he answered. “ It is the prospect of doing that 
which makes me forget the smarting of my wounds. 
150 


IN BASTIA. 


151 

Felix Pinelli shall know more of me ere long than 
will be pleasant to him.” 

“Bastia is my birthplace,” I replied, “and I can 
remember my father’s house there. — It stood not far 
from the sea, and before it was the great rock 
shaped like a lion.” 

“ Is that all you recollect of Bastia ? ” he asked, 
“because I wish to learn all I can of the place. 
Where does the governor live?” 

“ I cannot tell you that, ” I answered. “ I was 
taken away from the town when a child and have 
never seen it since.” 

“Then I must hunt for Felix,” said Serafino in his 
firm voice, “after we have taken Bastia.” 

“ It will be more difficult to do that than capturing 
Aleria was,” I answered. “You speak as though 
you were certain we can take the town.” 

“ How else would you have me speak, ” he replied. 
“This is not the first time that I have considered 
the matter of conquering Bastia, for when there 
was nothing else to occupy my thoughts, they 
always went towards Felix Pinelli, as a compass 
points to the north. My kinsman told me that 
Felix had the most horrible squint in all Corsica, 
so it will be no very hard task to recognise him,” 
and with this Serafino began humming the tune of 
a song, that was worse to hear than his singing. 

Onward we marched, with the solemn mountains 
on one side of us, and the tranquil country on the 
other, passing vineyards and olive grounds amid 


152 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


which here and there stood houses of fanciful shape, 
and away in the blue distance was a solitary watch 
tower. The road was a toilsome one, going now 
between bramble hedges, and then stretching up- 
ward upon the bare rock, with only a ruined chapel, 
ivy- covered and desolate, to break the dull monotony 
of the scene, until at last the road brought us in 
view of Bastia, which rises from the sea in the form 
of an amphitheatre, terrace above terrace. From 
the point at which we had arrived we could look 
down upon the town, and a faint remembrance of 
my childhood’s days came back to me. There was 
the little harbour with the quay stretched like a 
finger into the water — there were the lion-shaped 
rock, and the little lighthouse, and upon the rock 
the dismal fort built by the Genoese hundreds of 
years ago, a place wherein many a noble patriot 
had pined till death gave him liberty. 

The order was given to halt, and gladly did I 
obey, for my feet were aching with the toilsome 
march we had made, and very quickly such pro- 
visions as we had brought were being prepared for 
our evening meal. It was a picturesque scene we 
presented, for a thousand or more men were scattered 
in groups upon the ground and the hum of voices 
enlivened the desolate district. At a little way from 
the spot where I with a number of others sat, was 
a white-walled building which one of my company 
told me was the convent of Sant Antonio, and in 
the evening glow I saw two monks sitting in the 


IN BASTIA. 


153 


porch. There was a little chapel close by the convent, 
and from the former came some black-veiled nuns 
who passed into the building, and so peaceful was 
the picture that it was difficult to think that within 
half a mile of that calm retreat, lay a host of men 
intent upon battle and bloodshed. 

However, I had little time to consider that, for 
I was hungry and eager for supper. Serafino was 
busily preparing a savoury mess over the fire we 
had lighted, and very soon we had forgotten the 
stern business before us, and that of a certainty our 
supper was the last many of us would eat. I did 
not know the place which our leader had prepared 
for the attack upon Bastia, but it would not be long 
delayed I was assured. We had brought the can- 
nons taken from Aleria, together with all the arms 
which we found stored there, and every Corsican’s 
heart was beating with expectation at the . glorious 
struggle before us. 

Serafino was in the midst of a long story, telling 
it as only he could, and Massoni who had been 
badly hurt in the attack upon the fortress, lay beside 
me nursing a wounded hand, when a man came 
hastily to us asking for me. Serafino pointed to 
where I was sitting and the messenger whispered 
in my ear. 

“You are wanted by General Caporali,” he said. 
“ Come with me. He has something to ask you. ” 

I got up, wondering what our leader could want 
with such an one as myself, yet I asked the mes- 


154 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


senger no questions. Through the, camp I followed 
him, coming at length to where three or four 
officers were sitting, and with these was Cesario, 
who gave me a smile, and then one of the officers 
called me to come to him. 

“You are a native of Bastia,” he said abruptly. 
“ Will you go into the town and get what infor- 
mation you can upon certain matters.” 

“ I am ready,” I answered, “ but it is a long time 
ago since I was in Bastia. I recollect my way 
through some of the streets — no more.” 

“ That will suffice,” he replied. “ Colonel Arrighi 
will accompany you, and the quicker the informa- 
tion is brought to us, the sooner will the attack be 
made. Colonel Arrighi has chosen you to be his 
guide and speaks well of you.” 

I gave a little bow, and glanced at Cesario who 
laughed again. 

“ I will tell you our business, Camilla,” he said 
quietly. “We have a difficult errand before us, 
let me say at once, yet I do not think you will 
shrink from going through it with me,” and then 
he took me aside a little, saying that we were to 
act as spies, and find out what force, the governor 
had to defend Bastia with, and further to enlist 
support from those of the inhabitants who might be 
willing to give it us, together with other things 
which I need not refer to here. We were to start on 
our errand so soon as darkness had set in, and beyond 
all I was to hold my peace as to the project. 


m BASTTA. 


55 


It was arranged that Cesario and I should meet 
each other at a certain part of the encampment 
nearest the town, and from there get into Bastia as 
best we might. It was a dangerous attempt to make, 
and going back to my companions I wished very 
much that I might have asked advice from Sera- 
fino, whose wits were the readiest of anyone’s in 
the little army. But I had promised to keep the 
affair secret, and so held my peace, eating my supper 
with as much calmness as I could, and joining in 
the merry talk. Then by degrees that died away, 
for most of the men were tired and sleepy, and 
choosing the opportunity when Serafino had gone 
over to a neighbouring camp fire I made my way 
to the spot which Cesario had appointed for our 
meeting, finding him already there and ready for 
the start. 

The moon was rising over the mountains, and a 
soft wind blew landward from the sea. Behind and 
on either side darkness had spread, but before us 
the twinkling lights of Bastia showed the goal to 
which we bent our steps. Once in the town we 
should be comparatively safe — our danger lay in 
passing the sentries that guarded the gateway of the 
fortifications facing us. We could distinguish the 
line of high wall encircling the town, and the towers 
that flanked the entrance through them which loomed 
up black against the lighter sky, and toward these 
we went until we were within a few yards of them. 
And then a piece of the most wonderful good 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


156 

fortune that ever befell happened, for as we stood 
considering a plan of gaining admittance, there came 
from the gateway the sounds of voices in angry 
dispute, amongst them being the shrill tones of a 
woman ; whilst to add to the uproar an ass sent out 
at that instant such a bray that it might have been 
heard at the camp. Creeping cautiously forward we 
saw in the light cast from a lantern that hung over 
a sentry-box, the figures of a soldier barring the 
further progress of a small cart in which sat a 
muffled figure. What the dispute was about I shall 
never know, but it was plainly to be seen that the 
market-woman had returned to Bastia after the time 
for closing the gates. The voices rose higher and 
higher, and then, as though impatient at it, the 
sentry opened one of the heavy doors, whereupon 
the driver of the cart drove forward, but she had 
scarcely done this when the ponderous gate came 
swinging back, catching the cart which creaked 
under the sudden pressure. And there, held as in 
a vice, was the infuriated virago, with the donkey 
struggling as though a dozen dogs were at its heels, 
and the sentry swearing lustily at the mishap, mak- 
ing altogether such a hubbub as I could never 
fitly describe. Cesario and I were not half-a-dozen 
yards from the spot, lurking under the shadow of 
the wall, and for a moment we watched the little 
scene. 

“Here is our chance, Camilla,” whispered Cesario 
excitedly. “ There are none to stop us from helping 


IN BASTIA. 


157 


the woman and getting the cart free. Quick then,” 
and we were at the gates almost before he had 
finished speaking. 

The enraged market-woman was belabouring the 
sentry and the donkey in turns as we reached the 
spot, and never shall I forget her scream of surprise 
as Cesario, leaping on the cart, had disappeared 
into the dark through the half open gate, nor the 
sentry’s yell as I followed. I did not mean hurt 
to anyone, and if the woman had remained sitting 
all would have been well with her, but just as I 
was in the act of leaping after Cesario, she rose to 
strike at him with her whip, and so it happened 
that I came full against her. Over I went, headlong, 
alighting on the stony road, and forward went the 
woman over the donkey, but where the sentry went 
or what was the result of a blow which I had given 
him seeing his threatening face in the light of the 
lantern, I cannot say. The noise, however, was 
redoubled, and the heavy tramp of approaching feet 
warned* us of danger, so slipping down a narrow 
alley which was close by, Cesario and I ran swiftly 
out of earshot of the uproar. 

“Whoever the woman is, she ought to be made 
a saint and canonized for the good turn she has 
done us this night, * exclaimed Cesario as we 
stopped to get breath. 

“ And the donkey too, ” I answered, “ for if it 
had not been stubborn beyond every other donkey 
in Corsica it would have pulled the cart free.” 


58 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“ And now, ” went on Cesario, “ that we are in 
Bastia, let us get to work, and the saints make it 
as easy to get out as it was to get into the town. 
But there will be warm search made after us, 
Camilla, and therefore we will get to another part 
of the town with all speed.” 

We felt safe in passing through the streets, for 
our appearance would give rise to no suspicions. 
We were not known, nor could our errand be 
guessed, and we kept walking onward until the 
lower portion of Bastia which is called Terra Voc- 
chia was come to. The upper part that surrounds 
the Leone fortress is called Terra Nuova, and con- 
necting these two districts are terraces of houses, 
having gaudily shaded balconies, and above the 
town rise the green sloped mountains with many 
a citron and almond grove. The picture came 
back to my mdnd, as I remembered seeing it long 
ago with childish eyes, and glancing down at the 
little harbour I seemed to see the ship which my 
father had told me years since, was his, and that 
one day I should go on a voyage with him. 

The streets were thronged and it was plainly to 
be noticed that the approach of the insurgents had 
created a great deal of alarm and excitement 
amongst the townspeople. Most of these were 
foreigners, at least we judged this by the uncouth 
talk we heard, and the feeling for the greater part 
was against the Corsicans. The governor was 
praised by a loudly speaking group who sat outside 


IN BASTIA. 


159 


a wine shop into which Cesario and I went; and 
Hyacinthus Paoli together with the other leaders 
of the revolt were abused soundly. More than this 
we learnt that a strong body of troops were to 
arrive from Genoa, and that Germany had been 
asked to lend aid in quelling the insurrection. 

Cesario and I sat at a little table, drinking our 
wine and listening to the vapouring talk, straining 
our ears to catch any matter of importance which 
might be discussed. For a quarter of an hour 
maybe did we remain thus, and were about to 
continue our walk, when suddenly Cesario who 
had half risen from his seat dropped into his chair 
again, and his cheeks had turned pale. 

“Look this way,” he hissed out, “away from the 
door, Camilla.” 

“ Why should I do so ?” I asked, surprised at his 
fierce w’ords. “ Who is there to recognise me? ” 

“Fabiani Brasco has just joined the group by 
the table yonder,” he answered behind his hand, 
and then for a moment or two I had no power to 
reply; but in spite of Cesario’s warning I gave a 
hasty glance round to see my cousin’s face not six 
yards from me. 

He was dressed as I remembered seeing him last, 
and a belt was round his waist from which clattered 
a sword. Those at the table greeted him cordially, 
making room for him, and Fabiani sat down with 
his back to me. I had not been recognised as yet, 
but what would assuredly happen to my companion 


l6o KING FOR A SUMMER. 

and myself if my cousin denounced us was easy 
to foretell. It would mean our instant arrest and 
certain execution. 

These thoughts flashed through my mind, and I 
saw Cesario’s hand on the handle of a pistol which 
was beneath his coat. There was an angry gleam 
in his eyes which seemed to have lost their sight 
for everything but that stalwart figure at the table 
beyond us, whose fingers were grasping a wine 
cup and whose tongue was busy with news of im- 
portance. 

“Remember Nasone’s request to you,” I said 
hastily to my companion, placing my hand on his. 
“There will come another opportunity, Cesario, and 
we have much to do.” 

Cesario drew his hand back reluctantly, keeping 
his glance upon Fabiani. “ Yes, there must come 
my chance, ” he muttered, “ but patience is needed 
now.” And then we were silent, and my thoughts 
went backward and forward between the recollection 
of the last time I had encountered my cousin and 
the best way to evade his recognition of me now. 

“We must get away from here, Cesario,” I said 
in a low undertone. “ How is it to be done with- 
out danger ? ” 

“ There is a door yonder, ” he replied carelessly. 
“It may lead to greater risk for what I know, but 
we will go from the place through it. ” And he got 
to his feet. I arose also, and we had reached the 
doorway, Cesario had passed onward and I was 


IN BASTIA. 


l6l 


following him, when Fabiani twisted round on his 
chair, and as I disappeared a cry of surprise from 
him told me only too surely that he had seen and 
recognised me. 

We went hurriedly along a narrow passage, finding 
ourselves at last in a garden attached to the wine shop, 
and scrambling through a hedge which divided the 
piece of land from the. road Cesario and I proceeded 
upward toward the Terra Nuova without any further 
adventure. Here, as in the lower part of the town, 
the bustle and excitement were very marked, and 
without trouble we learnt everything which we 
desired to know: How that General Paul Battista 
Rivarola was to be sent forthwith from Genoa with 
all the troops which could be raised there, and as 
though to balance that in our favour the Germans 
had refused assistance to the Genoese, having 
their own troubles in Poland to attehd to. These 
things and many others formed the subjects of 
conversation amongst the townspeople; and during 
the time that we listened in taverns, at the corners 
of streets, at open windows or wherever a throng had 
gathered, we were unquestioned and disregarded. 

We had spent some hours in obtaining the infor- 
mation I have described and then we resolved to 
return to the camp, but how that was to be done 
safely neither Cesario nor I could see. 

“ There will be no more market-women’s carts 
fixed in the gate,” I said, assuming an easy speech for 
all my anxiety. Say then, Cesario, how is it to be ? ” 

II 


i 62 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


Cesario shrugged his shoulders. “ There is only 
one way that presents itself, ” he answered, “ and 
that is to scale the wall and trust to the saints for 
reaching the other side of it without a bullet through 
our heads.” 

There really was no other method of escape, and 
I had such trust in my companion’s courage and 
readiness that the plan he proposed seemed already 
executed ; so we decided upon walking a little 
further and then to retrace our steps toward a part 
of the fortifications that was at a good distance from 
the entrance into Bastia. 

We had performed our dangerous task in safety 
thus far, gaining information that would be of the 
greatest service to the leaders of the besieging army, 
and now all that remained was to escape with our 
lives from the town. Keeping a keen watch on 
either hand we made for the fortifications that were 
clearly marked out in the light of the full moon, 
when suddenly upon the still air there broke the 
dull boom of a cannon. 

“ What does the firing mean, Cesario ? ” I cried. 
“ Hark ! ” and again the heavy sound came rolling 
dully through the night air. ^ 

For an instant we stood listening, and I was on 
the point of moving forward again when from out 
the shadow of some tree two men stepped up to us, 
and one of them, laying his hand on my shoulder, 
called me by name, giving a harsh laugh as he did 
this. 


CHAPTER XVm. 


WE ARE ARRESTED. 

W ITH speechless surprise I saw before me 
the unexpected features of Teodor Brasco, 
and slinking behind his shoulder was Signor 
Poli who stood rubbing his hands together, keeping 
a furtive glance upon Cesario. 

“ I never thought to have had this pleasure, ” 
exclaimed the notary, edging further back from us. 
“Because there was a rumour that you had fallen' 
into the hands of your enemies. Signor Arrighi. 
The news gave me much grief, and I have never 
ceased to mourn for you.” 

“^es, that was the talk about you and your 
companion, Camilla,” added Teodor. “'Twas said 
you had been condemned to be hanged.” 

“ Times are changed,” I answered. “ There may be 
others of whom such things may be said presently, 
and more truthfully, ” and I gave a look at the notary. 

Teodor laughed again, and during the talk Cesario 
had kept silence. I understood his reason for that ; 
a struggle or quarrel would have brought a crowd 
round us, and it was best to be wary. 

163 


164 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“To think you should be in Bastia,” exclaimed 
the notary who seemed to dread the ominous silence 
of Cesario, and therefore talked volubly, “and at 
such a moment as this! Yet it is lucky for you 
and your friend ” — here Signor Poli pointed toward 
me — “that I have met you. Strangers in the town 
are apt to be looked upon with suspicion. For 
only yesterday a harmless seller of sweet herbs was 
laid by the heels, and report says the governor 
intends hanging him to-morrow. And this man had 
done nothing amiss, mark you — he was a simple 
country-fellow. ” 

During this harangue we had continued moving 
gently in the direction of the walls, and I knew 
that Cesario was casting his glances about, for the 
opportunity to evade Teodor and his companion. 
Signor Poli noted this also, I suppose, for he whis- 
pered in Teodor’s ear, and then they both stopped 
across our path. 

“We are not going your way, Camilla,” said my 
kinsman, “ and after such a long absence from each 
other I do not care to part without some further 
conversation with you. Walk with me, please,” 
and he moved in the direction from whence Cesario 
and I had come. 

There was an insolence in his request — it was 
almost a command — that made my flesh tingle. As 
yet I had scarcely answered his jeering remarks, and 
Cesario had maintained absolute silence. It would 
have been the easiest thing possible to have flung 


WE ARE ARRESTED. 


1^5 

ourselves upon Teodor and the notary, and I did 
not doubt what the result would have been; yet 
caution and watchfulness were likely to serve us 
better far than all the bravery in the world at that 
particular moment. I thought of the benefit my 
death would bring to Fabiani and his son; of the 
plot which was hatching to obtain my inheritance 
from me, and I gulped down the angry reply that 
rose to my lips as Teodor spoke. 

“ And Signor Arrighi will drink a cup of wine 
with me,” said the notary, cracking his long fingers. 
“ Oh yes — we shall be quite a merry party. ” 

“ I have my own affairs to attend to, Signor 
Brasco,” replied Cesario sternly, and not heeding 
the notary more than if the fellow ha^ been a tree 
stem. “Camilla has no particular desire for your 
company I am disposed to think, therefore you will 
allow us to go on peaceably.” 

Teodor’s reply was a mocking laugh. “ There 
are times when it is best to speak civilly, I perceive, 
Signor; and I for one shall do the same. Go your 
ways then, you and your companion.” 

“ There are times when it is safer to speak civilly 
than to threaten, you might have said,” retorted 
Cesario. “And as for you,” he added, turning so 
fiercely upon him that the notary gave a nimble 
skip out of harm’s way — “ Well — you and I will talk 
to each other at a fitter moment.” 

“Nay, I wish no further speech with you,” cried 
the notary, trying to assume a resolute look. “ And 


i66 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


do not suppose that I value your angry looks. I 
am as brave as any man in Corsica, I feel my heart 
beating like a lion’s when I think of what may be 
before me — I lived too long in Corte — I suffered 
myself too long to be despitefully treated, but I have 
exchanged my pen for a sword — aye, here it is,” 
and Signor Poli held out a puny little bodkin of a 
sword that would have served better for cutting his 
meat than carving an enemy. Not content with this, 
the vain-glorious notary must needs strut to and fro 
in the moonlight, holding his black gown in a bunch 
behind his back, so that he looked for all the world 
like a lean, long-legged fowl crowing defiance at 
midnight, and he was doing this when from out the 
shadow of a big cork tree sprang the figure of a 
woman, who with a wild cry had seized him by the 
arm before he could escape. 

“ Have I found thee at last then,” screamed the 
woman, disregarding the spectators. “ High and low 
have I been to discover you. Signor Poli,” and she 
gave him such a vigorous shake that his wig came 
awry with its curly tail bow over his startled eyes. 

“Holy Sante Caris-s-s-ima,” shouted the notary. 
“ How have you got to Bastia, woman ? I left you 
safely in Corte and told no one of my coming here. 
Good, patient Griseldino, loose your hold on my 
arm, for your fingers bite like a tarantula.” 

“ How came I into Bastia, do you ask ? ” cried 
Griseldino, getting a firmer grip of him. “What 
matters that to you? I had rather say how you 


WE ARE ARRESTED. 


167 


stole away from your house, leaving not a soldo nor 
trace of food in it, and owing me the wages of full 
six months. So back to Corte you shall come with 
me forthwith.” 

“The she-dragon of whom Serafino told us,” 
whispered Cesario to me ; “ look at the brave notary 
now.” 

“ But how did you reach Bastia ? ” exclaimed 
Signor Poli in a faint voice, casting an appealing 
look round at Teodor and ourselves. 

“ In the market cart of Giovanni Lippo,” shrieked 
the patient Griseldino, “whose fiend of a donkey 
seemed turned into a statue at the entrance to the 
town. The miscreant sentry had opened the gate 
when suddenly it fell to upon the cart, and then two 
evil spirits came flying over my head, carrying off 
my mantile ^ that has been lost from that instant, 
and frightening the ass so greatly that the stubborn 
beast ran away with Giovanni Lippo’s cart, leaving - 
me on the stones of the road.” 

Cesario and I, although every moment was of 
the greatest importance to us, waited for Griseldino 
to end her story, and then we went swiftly away 
from . the spot, and how the notary fared I cannot 
say. There was sterner work on hand than even 
the exciting encounter between the notary and his 
housekeeper, for the booming of cannon had grown 
into a continuous roar, and mingled with it came 
the sharp volleying of musketry from the distance. 

* The head-covering of Corsican women. 


i68 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


There was the sound of hurrying footsteps and loud 
cries in the town, and the sturdy tramp of armed 
men. Lights flickered here and there from the 
watch towers upon the fortifications, and joining in 
a crowd that was streaming in the direction of the 
entrance to Bastia, we learnt that a sortie had been 
made by the garrison upon the Corsicrn encampment, 
and that a deadly battle was in progress it required 
no one to tell us. 

A company of soldiers was passing through the 
gateway as Cesario and I came within sight of it, 
and we hastened our steps. 

“We can get past the sentries maybe,” said 
Cesario. “ That is our only chance of escape from 
the place. Quick then, Camilla; join with the ranks 
that are going out. Bend your face downward 
— Fabiani Brasco is in the crowd — his glance fell 
on you a moment since.” 

I stooped my head and together we pressed into 
the ranks of the soldiers who were passing out to 
engage in the conflict, the sounds of which rose 
and fell over the town, but at the very moment 
when deliverance from our dangerous situation was 
almost gained, a little knot of men suddenly stood 
before us, and Fabiani Brasco’s outstretched hand 
pointed at me. 

“ That is the fellow, ” he said, “ He has come as 
a spy from the rascally army of rebels ; ” and I was 
in the grasp of strong hands ere I could utter a 
word of reply. There was a scuffle and the sight 


WE ARE ARRESTED. 


169 

of a man staggering backward, and then Ce- 
sario and I, in the midst of an angry throng, 
were being hurried through the streets, closely 
guarded. 


CHAPTER XJX. 


A RACE FOR LIFE. 

A lthough the noise of a thousand tongnes 
seemed in the air, and the confusion around 
us was increasing every instant, I heard 
Cesario’s whispered words with strange distinctness 
as we sped along, but for all that I tried to answer 
him I could not. The news of our arrest had 
brought a concourse of people together, so that 
more than once our progress was stopped. It was 
at one of these stoppages that I saw Teodor’s face 
leering at me, and heard his jeering voice, as he 
spoke to Fabiani, who frowned and cursed th"' 
people impeding the prisoners. There was a curiosity 
in my mind as to what had become of the notary, 
and then I recollected the coming of Signor Poli’s 
housekeeper. 

But I thought and saw all these things as if I 
were in a dream, from which I awoke to find myself 
with Cesario in a vaulted courtyard, hearing some 
heavy doors close behind us with a sound like 
thunder, shutting out the babble of the crowd, so 
that a sullen silence rested rus, distur beoved only 

IJO 


A RACE FOR LIFE. 


171 

by the trampling of feet. Here we stood for a few 
moments, still guarded, and presently were conducted 
up some stone steps to a room where sat a soldierly 
looking man at a table, and leaning over this in 
the act of speaking was my cousin, the officer keeping 
his stern glance on Cesario and myself the while 
he listened. Then he addressed us. 

“You are denounced as rebels,” he began, “and 
as spies moreover.” 

Fabiani had turned, straightening himself as he 
faced me. 

“ This fellow’s name is Camilla Negroni,” he said; 
“ the other has been already condemned by the law. 
He is Cesario Arrighi, the outlaw.” 

“You have witnesses to prove that,” answered 
the officer. 

“Two. They are here,” and Fabiani beckoned 
with his hand. “Two whose evidence is clear,” and 
I saw Teodor and the notary come forward to the 
table. The latter’s long coat was rent at the shoulders 
and there were red marks down his face, such as 
Serafino had shown us on his. 

“ You know these men ? ” asked the officer 
sharply. 

“ Know them indeed, most honourable general, ” 
exclaimed the notary. “ That do I well, and a pair 
of blood-thirstier ruffians never stepped. Cesario 
Arrighi has done me more harm than you could 
have patience to hear, and as for the other, whose 
name, most noble general, is Camilla Negroni, he 


172 


KING FOR A SUMMER, 


has already attempted the life of this gentleman** — he 
pointed to Teodor — “ and is rife for the direst mischief 
against the righteous rulers of Corsica. Rank rebels 
both are they and dangerous withal, so that accord- 
ing to the statute made and provided for such 
fellows, which was enacted in the year 1702, there 
needs but a speedy hanging of them. And further- 
more it is ordained that those who bring damage and 
hurt to their fellow-subjects shall be called upon to 
make such damage good.” 

The officer gave a frown of enquiry. 

“You have a long tongue,” he said. “What 
particular hurt have these men done you?” 

“ The letting loose of a lunatic beast of prey on 
me, ” cried the notary. “ A woman, valiant general, 
in whose clutches they left me, and had not my 
guardian Saint been quicker to rescue than the 
lunatic to destroy I should be dead instead of alive 
at this moment. For to be brief, my coat was rent 
as you see it, my flesh sorely scratched by the said 
lunatic, in the fear of whom I go continually; and 
the further reading of the statute ” 

“ Oh, a pest on your statutes ! ” exclaimed the 
officer, interrupting the notary’s speech roughly. 
“ That these men are spies is sufficient for me. 
You vouch for their being such?” and he turned 
to Teodor. 

“What my father has told you, I vouch for as 
being true, ” answered Teodor. “ This Camilla Negroni 
is likely to do further mischief if he be not checked, 


A RACE FOR LIFE. 


173 


and the other — Cesario Arrighi — and he are in 
Bastia to obtain information to be used against the 
rulers of Corsica.” 

His glance met Fabiani’s as he ceased, and a 
look of deepest meaning passed between them. 
The notary, dragging his tattered garment together, 
went to my cousin, and there was an evil smile of 
gratification on Signor Poll’s face as he and those who 
had sworn thus against me, drew aside whispering. 

Neither Cesario nor I had answered a word. It 
would have been quite useless, and in a few 
moments we were hurried away to await further 
examination on the morning. There was a narrow, 
stone-built room that opened from the vaulted 
courtyard, and into this we were unceremoniously 
thrust, our condemnation being certain. 

“A glorious ending this truly,” growled Cesario, 
as he paced to and fro in the thin stream of light 
that came into the cell from a lamp in the courtyard 
through a square hole in the door. “Cooped up 
here to be presently taken out and shot. And to 
think Fabiani Brasco was at my mercy not two 
hours ago ! ” whilst as he said this my companion 
ground his teeth with anger. 

“ I do not think everyone is against us, ” I an- 
swered. “We have a friend in Bastia unless I am 
mistaken. The fellow who guarded me from the 
room here whispered in my ear.” 

“Whispering cannot help us overmuch,” replied 
Cesario, “ yet w:hat did he say ? ” 


174 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“That he would aid us,” I answered. “There 
was no time for him to speak further.” And as I 
said this the stream of light went out suddenly, 
for a man’s head was at the little square hole in 
the door, by which the light had entered. 

“Within there!” and a muffled voice came into 
the cell. “The one who is called Negroni.” 

“Yes. What do you want with me?” I an- 
swered, coming to the opening, so that I could feel 
the speaker’s breath. 

“ Be ready to follow me when I give the signal, ” 
came the voice again. “ There was a Negroni who 
saved my life years ago, and I will save yours 
now. ” 

I gave a start, for the words were the sweetest 
surprise that ever an unfortunate man heard 
yet, and I asked him a question that received no 
answer, for the face disappeared and the tramp of 
the sentry was heard again. 

“ Cesario, ” I said, seizing his hand, “ we are to 
be helped — we shall escape 1 ” and I repeated the 
words I had just heard as we waited for our 
unknown benefactor to return. I suppose something 
hindered him in doing this, for it was some minutes 
before the light was obstructed again, and they 
seemed hours to us. Then we heard a soft little 
whistle, the rusty lock creaked, the cell door was 
opened the next moment, and we stepped out into 
the courtyard. Our deliverer was a soldier in the 
Genoese uniform, and without a word of explanation 


A RACE FOR LIFE. 


175 


he unlocked the small gate that was within the 
larger one which guarded the courtyard, and we 
found ourselves in the street. 

“I would do more than even this for my country,” 
said our deliverer as we crept along in the black 
shadow of some houses, “ and now come with me 
quickly. We can get to a part where the wall is 
low enough to be climbed easily, ” and with this we 
hastened on, amid a strange quietude, for the towns- 
people had flocked from the Terra Nuova, leaving 
it lonely and still. 

As we went along I found that the mention of 
my name had been the means of our finding a 
friend. Our guide told me in little snatches, as 
we walked, pausing now and again to listen, that 
his life had been saved by a certain Capitano Negroni, 
many years ago, and that the name had brought 
back the memory of the gallant act. Moreover he 
told us that he was Corsican born, for all that he 
was serving the oppressor as a Genoese, and that 
in a word, he was resolved to fight on the side of 
his countrymen. 

These things I heard truly, but without paying 
much attention to them, for my whole thoughts 
were intent upon escaping from Bastia. Cesario 
was on my left hand and our guide on the right, 
and thus we went, averting our faces when the light 
of a swinging lantern or window had to be passed. 
The moon was at her full height, making open 
spaces silvery white, upon which the shadows fell 


176 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


black as ink and sharply defined. We had left the 
busier streets behind us now, the last terrace of 
houses had been passed, and above this rose the 
uneven wall of the town, a thick grove separating 
it from us, through which went a thread of path, 
white beneath the moon beams. 

“We can mount the wall midway between the 
two towers yonder,” our guide told us; “and once 
upon the other side there is nothing to hinder us.” 

The sounds of the engagement between the 
Genoese and the revolting Corsicans had continued 
up till now, but as we approached the wall the fire 
slackened, a dull roar booming now and again 
through the air. How the battle had gone, and with 
what results, we were excitedly anxious to learn, 
and now that our escape was almost accomplished, 
we became reckless I suppose. Be that as it may, 
however, we were suddenly hailed from a little 
distance as we entered upon the grove I have men- 
tioned, and giving no answer to the call, a shot 
came whistling over our heads. Then there was a 
loud shout, and into the grove we plunged, with 
half a dozen soldiers — I saw the glint of their arms 
and iron caps as the light fell on them — at our 
heels. 

With the speed that only the dread of recapture 
could have given us, we ran along the path that 
wound in and out through the trees, hearing the 
heavy tread of our pursuers close behind us. Then 
a bullet came striking our guide upon the arm, and 


A RACE FOR LIFE. 


177 


he gave a scream of pain, holding the shattered 
limb with his uninjured hand; and a volley was 
poured in the direction of our road. I saw Cesario 
stumble and recover himself, at which panting and 
breathless I increased my speed until we were run- 
ning shoulder to shoulder. 

“Are you hurt?” I jerked out, having scarce 
breath to speak. 

“ There was the touch as of a hot iron on my 
neck, but it has done me no harm,” he answered, 
almost falling again, and I put my arm round his 
waist. And thus running, the bullets splintering the 
thick leaves and sending up little dust clouds, we 
came at length to where the wall, which was to prove 
either a means of escape, or bring us to bay, stood 
clear out a dozen yards off. 

Our guide was beside us still, holding his wounded 
arm, his face ghastly white with pain, and speeding 
forward calling us to follow, he began climbing the 
crumbling brickwork, making the ascent easy, and 
in a moment or two we were on the top of the 
wall, and I gave a look down into the black sha- 
dows that lay on the outer side of it. 

But our pursuers had gained upon us now; 
they were in an excited group below, yelling 
threats, and the sharp report of musketry rang 
out; there was the passing of a heavy body by 
me, a dull thud from the shadows below, and 
then with Cesario alongside of me I was grazing 
down the rough wall until my feet touched earth 

12 


178 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


at last. But there were only two of us to speed 
down the hill to gain the spot where, at a distance 
of half a mile maybe, the flashing of gunshot crim- 
soned the sky. 


CHAPTER XX, 


THE SORTIK 

T he events that had preceded the moment when 
Cesario and I reached the scene of battle 
Massoni described to me later on. The Cor- 
sicans had been surprised and taken at a dis- 
advantage by the Genoese; for worn by our long 
march that day my comrades lay resting round the 
camp fires, unsuspecting the approach of their ene- 
mies, and during the excitement produced by the 
onslaught upon them, had wavered, losing many 
men in the few fierce moments of confusion. Rally- 
ing quickly, a stubborn resistance was made, and 
a struggle for victory ensued, murderous and san- 
guinary beyond conception, which from the compara- 
tively small number engaged seemed almost a suc- 
cession of single combats. 

The drooping of the cannon fire, which we had 
noticed during our escape, was caused by the great 
slaughter amongst our gunners, who bore the brunt 
of the first attack, and furthermore by the useless- 
n(iss of cannon against the straggling bodies of 
Genoese. The Corsicans had withdrawn from the 

179 


i8o 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


place of their encampment, falling back in the direc- 
tion of the convent of Sant Antonio; and it was 
at the moment when the conflict was raging at its 
deadliest around the white walls of the building that 
Cesario and I came towards the spot. 

The convent was in flames that shed their lurid 
light over the struggling figures, which, moving amid 
a grim silence, for we were not yet close enough 
to distinguish friend from foe, made a spectacle which 
I shall never forget. Over the rough ground we 
ran, passing more than one heap of dead and wounded 
men huddled back together ; stumbling over a 
body whose white face lay in the glare of the 
fire, and seeing many others strewn like dead leaves 
here and there, onward we went until wild un- 
earthly voices could be heard amid the hissing rush 
of flames ; voices that seemed hardly human, and high 
above them a word of command now and then. 

Heeding nothing of these sights or sounds, how- 
ever, Cesario and I made straight for the blazing 
convent. The chapel I have mentioned was as yet 
untouched, although the angry flames, driven by the 
wind, licked round the tiny building, threatening 
its destruction, whilst backed by the bright lashes 
of fierce light, the battle raged ; dark forms in groups 
or singly moved hurriedly, joining for a moment 
and then falling asunder, lessened in numbers, for 
in that brief coming together of the combatants 
death had been busy. I could see men falling as 
though a reaper’s sickle had mowed them down. 


THE SORTIE. 


i8i 


there were the uplifting of arms and the fall of 
stalwart fighters that changed from life to senseless 
clods of earth as by a magic, to be trodden out 
of human shape by their fellows, ere they themselves 
reeled and sank out of existence. The weird car- 
nage came closer into view, the snarling shouts of 
defiance and defeat rang louder, the hissing of the 
flames was the roar of a furnace now, for we had 
reached the brink of the fighting, armed with weapons 
that had been snatched from the grasp of hideous 
dead men as we ran, and Cesario, panting and wild 
with excitement, had cut down an enemy who 
opposed us, as through a line of Genoese soldiers 
we hewed a path and gained a momentary respite from 
attack beneath the shelter of the convent porch. 

“Side by side, Camilla,” he hissed — “we are 
safer thus.” And there was no time to answer, 
for like wild animals some men were upon us, and 
a tall fellow, his eyes and teeth gleaming white in 
the glare of the fire, was thrusting at me. Quick 
as thought I dropped on my knee, and as he lunged 
at my throat my sword passed through him, grazing 
the edge of the steel corselet beneath his upraised arm. 

I felt the quivering of his body run down to my 
hand along the sword blade, and he would have 
fallen upon me had I not sprung aside with a wild 
joy in my heart, at sight of his bent neck. 

Then Cesario was beside me again, slashing and 
thrusting; there was the crash of his sword against 
an iron cap, and then he had gone, there was a 


i 82 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


tangle of writhing bodies where our foes had stood 
an instant before, and I was away from the porch. 
The little chapel seemed to have taken its place, 
and it was Serafino, like some giant read of in an 
old fairy tale, now before me, at the entrance to 
the chapel, keeping back some men who would 
have forced by him, and in the bright light every 
movement was plainly to be seen. I was conscious 
of his recognising me, as I stooped beneath one of 
his assailants, driving my blade deep into the fel- 
low’s threatening sword arm, and then Serafino and 
I were side by side and he had done a deed such 
as only his strength and courage could have ac- 
complished. Before him, fierce as a mountain bull, 
was a huge Genoese, armoured on head and breast, 
and for a moment he and Serafino had cleared a 
space around them. Like a flash of lightning the 
Genoese had brought his sword down with a sweeping 
cut, but throwing his bared head aside my comrade 
averted the deadly stroke that fell against the 
masonry of the doorway with a clatter of steel on 
stone, and Serafino recovered his position, a laugh 
being in his eyes. Just an instant’s pause as though 
to calculate his reach, and with a drawing cut his 
sword had severed the Corsican’s iron chin-strap, 
laying open the fellow’s cheek from ear to mouth and 
in that brief moment I saw the man’s teeth to the 
extremity of the jawbone. With a yell of pain 
and rage, the Corsican struck again and again, 
but his sight was hidden by a gush of blood 


THE SORTIE. 


83 


that came like a mask, and was cleared away from 
his eyes with a rapid movement of his hand. And 
then, quicker than words can describe the deed, 
my companion had leaped forward, bringing his 
great weight behind the deadly thrust, and through 
the Corsican’s corselet as though it had been glass, 
went Serafino’s sword, straight into his enemy’s 
heart, and breaking at the hilt remained transfixed 
in the fallen body. 

“ Back ! ” cried Serafino, dealing blows right and 
left with the stiletto he had drawn from his belt. 
“ Back into the chapel ! ” And we were in the 
building, its vaulted roof echoing with the trampling 
of feet over the marble floor. There were two of 
the Genoese soldiery who followed us, raging for 
revenge, having seen their comrade fall, and these 
were armed better than we. One had levelled his 
gun, but I ran forward, knocking up the piece, 
and as I did this Serafino had with his bare hands 
gripped the strap of each of the soldiers’ iron cap. 
For a second he held the men thus, and then with 
a strength beyond belief he brought the two heads 
together — the sound of the clashing caps ringing 
clear above the tumult outside the chapel. Twice 
was this done, and the second time Serafino released 
the hold, as the men staggered, with blood pouring 
from the splintered skulls, and rolled senseless. 

All these events had happened so quickly and 
followed one upon the other so rapidly that they 
seemed to pass like a dream; but with the falling 


184 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


of our two enemies, there was an instant of cessa- 
tion from the fighting, and Serafino called me by 
name, the old, cheery sound being in his voice, for 
all that his brow was gashed. 

“Into the sacristy, Camilla,” he cried; “there will 
be a door there by which to escape. We cannot 
pass out by the way we entered.” And as he spoke 
there came a rush of fighting men, friends and foes 
in the deadliest encounter of the deadly battle. I 
caught a glimpse of Cesario fighting bravely, and 
of our general and one or two more, and then 
Serafino and I were in a place no bigger than a 
linen chest, having crashed our way through a door 
that in the uncertain light gave promise of escape. 
Then my companion had disappeared with a yell 
of wonder, and I was with him again before one 
could count three, some feet below the chapel floor 
and the dull trampling of the combatants over our 
heads, down in the burying place of some long- 
forgotten dead, where like a star on a black night 
twinkled the red glow of a vesper lamp. The place 
seen by that spot of light showed up gloomy and 
cavernous, with rotting coffins piled high, so that 
the lower ones had been flattened and crushed, 
making sights so hideous that though above me 
were bloodshed and death, they were not half so 
horrible as those silent mementoes of the dead that 
lay decayed and loathsome around. 

We had fallen through a narrow trap door that 
guarded the steps leading down into the vault, and 


THE SORTIE. 


185 


with all his valour burning within him still Serafino 
cast a shuddering look about “Better a dozen 
Genoese than this ! ” he exclaimed ; and we were 
mounting the steps, breathless, in eager escape 
from the awful sepulchre to where above us 
roared the tide of battle, when down into the 
vault came the yell of victory and scream of defeat, 
and the figures of struggling men were crowding 
the little space wherein we had entered from the 
chapel. 

With a cry such as Serafino only could vent he 
was in the thick of the fight, his big body forcing 
a passage that permitted me to follow him, but this 
closing again, the press took us apart and I was 
being driven against the wall of the chapel, seeing 
like phantoms the faces of Massoni and Cesario, all 
blood-besmeared and altered by the fury of the 
battle. Now I was free from my assailants, and 
we were driving the Genoese toward the doorway 
that framed a ruddy square of fire, and the dawn was 
coming through the painted window over the altar. 
I saw these trivial things, and heard the groans 
of dying men with a strangeness of surprise 
which seemed to numb my senses and take away 
all feeling,' yet never once did I pause in strik- 
ing or evading a blow. To and fi*o, but always 
gaining toward the patch of red framed by the 
doorway, feeling the hot air stinging my throat, 
and keeping back my panting breath, wounding 
and wounded again and again, I went, knowing 


i86 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


that we Corsicans were coming closer and closer 
together, hearing Cesario’s voice encouraging his 
men, and conscious of Serafino’s bulk towering amid 
his foes like a giant. 

How long that desperate fight in the chapel lasted 
I cannot say, but the sun was glistering on the 
blood pools and shining on gavShed and bleeding 
faces as we came helter-skelter through the doorway. 
The hot breath of the burning convent fell upon 
me, and the smell of blood along with it, as I leaped 
out into the air, and saw streaming in the direction 
of Bastia the remnant of our beaten foe. The battle 
was over at last, and we had won the victory, but 
at too great a price. We had defeated our foes, 
but our losses were great, and all hope of capturing 
the town was at an end for the time being. It 
needed not that weary council of war which was 
held to decide that, for the sight of our fallen 
comrades told only too plainly our weakened force, 
and presently Cesario, pale and bloodstained, came 
to where Serafino with some others sat wearied and 
lax, indifferent to everything in all Corsica or the 
whole world at that moment. 

The convent ' was smouldering sullenly behind the 
heap of dead bodies that sheltered us from the heat 
of the burning building, and sprawling full length 
on the trampled grass Serafino was speaking to me 
in a sleepy tone as Cesario came up. 

“ I have a mind to look at the fellow who cut 
me down the head,” he said, “but I lack the power 


THE SORTIE. 


187 

to drag myself to the chapel door yonder. There 
is a great dread of that vault too in my mind, 
Camilla Negroni.” 

“ There are worse things alive than dead,” growled 
Massoni who had escaped with but a few scratches. 

“As the notary of Corte,” replied Serafino, and 
it was just then that Cesario joined us. It was 
plainly to be seen that he had had his fill of fight- 
ing, for the leather coat on his back was cut in a 
dozen places, and each cut showed an edging of 
blood. 

“ The notary of Corte, ” he cried. “ It was he 
whom we might thank for being shot, unless the 
saints had sent us deliverance. The villain is in 
Bastia at this moment. We spoke to him.” 

“ When he was in such a brave spirit that it 
needed your she-dragon to subdue him, Serafino,” 
I added, and then the tale of our adventures was 
gone through, whilst Serafino languidly got a brand 
or two from the burning convent and made a fire, 
over which we warmed the contents of a stew pot, 
left by one of our dead comrades at our overnight 
camping place, and made a meal with what appe- 
tite our weariness permitted us. 


/ 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE ENGLISH SHIPS. 

T he news Cesario had gathered during that 
memorable visit to Bastia which he and I 
made, was very welcome to the leaders of 
the insurrection, for it was certain now that the 
Genoese would receive no support from the Ger- 
mans; but for all that, the revolt was to prove 
a lengthened time of trouble and despair to the 
brave islanders. The conflict I have described was 
but one of many of the like sort which devastated 
districts and cost much bloodshed, and were it not 
that I am concerned more particularly in narrating 
the events which affected me personally, there are 
many circumstances connected with the insurrection 
that might be described. These, however, are 
matters of history, and I will pass over briefly the 
account of the time following the skirmish outside 
of Bastia, and come to the time when a wonderful 
and unlooked-for occurrence brought help and new 
hope to my countrymen, and to me a lifelong friend 
by whom my career was to be influenced hereafter. 
And to that wonderful event was added another 

188 


THE ENGLISH SHIPS. 


189 


shortly afterwards, by which not only the fortunes 
of Corsica were affected, but also the fortunes of 
those whom I had come to regard with affection 
and friendship, which were improved in a way so 
miraculous as to be worthy the fullest description. 

When daylight spread over the scene of the 
battle-field around the ruined convent of Sant Antonio 
it showed a gruesome sight, and the roll-call was 
unanswered by many a score of our gallant comrades 
whose blood had dyed the grass and mingled with 
that of their slain foes. We were a sadly diminished 
company, and the order was given for retiring from 
the position which we were ill prepared to defend. 
The Corsicans fell back in the direction of Corte, 
without pursuit by the Genoese, and although there 
were many who were for laying siege in regular 
form to Bastia, wiser counsels prevailed and the 
leaders of the revolt occupied themselves during the 
ensuing few weeks in drawing up the articles of a 
constitution that was to form the basis of a settled 
government. Signor Orticoni had returned from his 
mission to implore aid from the Spanish king, but 
the effort had been unsuccessful, for that ruler 
declined to take Corsica under his special protec- 
tion ; yet as he had refused help to Genoa also, the 
mission had not been altogether barren of good 
results to us. 

But our enemies were employing their utmost 
resources to subdue the revolt, and General Rivarola, 
the Genoese, had reached the island, bringing all the 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


I go 

troops which he could raise with him. The garrisons 
of Ajaccio, Bastia, Calvi, and many other strongholds 
were increased, and these places formed as it were 
a barrier round us which rendered our bravery and 
suffering useless. Moreover, the whole island was 
blockaded, all intercourse being cut off between the 
inhabitants and the surrounding countries; ships' 
which would have brought us the means of continu- 
ing the war were seized at sea and destroyed, and 
within a short time after the outbreak of the revolt 
Corsica was within sight of famine. The bravest 
hearts quailed at that, the patriotism which had 
incited the insurrection could not avail against hunger 
and destitution which day by day grew greater, 
whilst worst of all, our stores of ammunition were 
almost exhausted. 

It was when these things were seen and their 
meaning realised that overtures of peace were offered 
to Genoa. Paoli, Costa, our general Don Luis 
Giafferi, Castineta and Cecealdi, with many other 
wise and heroic men, met in council at Corte, and 
a proposal by which an end to the revolt might be 
come to was sent to Genoa. The distress was 
almost at its greatest in the island when this was 
done, and the news which spread very quickly, that 
the terms of peace had been refused, brought a 
deeper shadow over the unhappy country than had 
laid upon it yet. Hope died out of the breast ot 
the most sanguine of our leaders, and something 
very like despair filled ours. The sacrifices of life 


THE ENGLISH SHIPS. 


I9I 


and substance which the brave Corsicans had made 
were all to no end, and the vengeance of our 
triumphant oppressors a thing to be dreaded, more 
even than the famine which stared us in the face. 

This then was the condition in which we in Cor- 
sica found ourselves after six months of revolt. 
Fighting had been done with, for only in those 
strongly fortified places I have mentioned were any 
Genoese to be found, they having withdrawn from 
the interior of the island, and to break through that 
chain which held us, to attack and seize the strong 
fortifications and drive the relentless Genoese out, 
were alike impossible, and a hopeless despair, as I 
have said, crushed us to inactivity and despondency. 

The company in which I was enrolled, having 
Cesario Arrighi as its colonel, was waiting for orders 
at a little village called Macca, that is situated not 
far from the Gulf of Isola Rossa; and the weari- 
some time passed slowly away. Serafino and Massoni, 
cured of their wounds months ago and eating their 
hearts, as the saying is, in enforced idleness, were 
quartered with me in a little mud hut that had once 
belonged to a goatherd, long since dead, and I 
doubt whether three hungrier men than we had 
ever looked across the blue water of the gulf that 
was to be seen from the hole in our mud-built 
dwelling that served for a window. 

Serafino lay stretched to his full length on the 
dusty earth, gazing up at the buzzing flies which 
hovered over his head, whilst Massoni sat looking 


192 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


blankly at an empty cauldron in which the last full 
meal we had eaten had been cooked. And that 
was two days since. I was resting my arms on 
the broken sill of the opening, looking oQt on the 
gulf of Isola Rossa. 

“ Cesario said, ” began Serafino slowly, “ that we 
were to have some provisions sent us from head- 
quarters. Cast a look into the stew pot Massoni, 
the slothful, and see if a scraping of fat has been 
left by chance in it — that might keep life in me 
until those headquarters rations arrive.” 

“ I do not believe in your headquarters rations, ” 
replied Massoni, bringing the stew pan towards 
him with his foot. “ They are hungry there — they 
are hungry in all the country, and why should we 
be remembered here in Macca. No, Serafino mio, 
there is not enough fat left in the stew pan to 
tempt a rat into thieving.” 

“ Why am I left alive then to be famished ? ” 
enquired Serafino. “ Because look you, Massoni, at 
the present moment I could eat — yet what good 
does it for me to say this. Go into the village 
and beg something for us.” 

Massoni gave a little laugh. “ Begging was 
never a trade of mine, Serafino — nor yours. Re- 
member you how gaily we fared together in the 
mountains? There was always the chance of a fat 
Genoese to be encountered.” 

“Aye, I recollect,” growled Serafino, “and that 
I had a purse of goatskin in those days — I left that 


rHE ENGLISH SHIPS. 


193 


when we were beset by the shirri. Heigh-ho! I 
have the most amazing hunger within me that ever 
an unfortunate man possessed yet. Get down to 
the village and steal some food, Camilla.” 

Serafino spoke recklessly, being more than half 
famished, for neither of us had tasted food that day. 
Massoni threw a few silver coins on the ground 
and turned to Serafino. 

“I went yesterday,” he said, “into the village, 
where by the providence of Sant Anselmini re- 
mained the house of a baker ; and I had already the 
vision of an arm-long loaf in my eyes. You know 
the kind, Serafino ? ” 

“Forbear to picture it, Massoni,” answered he. 
“ There is nothing worse than the mention of eating to 
a man beyond reach of food. What said the baker? ” 

“ That the last handful of flour had been baked 
and that should not a further supply reach him from 
the miller of Questinado, the saints only knew what 
was to be done. Thereupon I proceeded to a seller 
of poultry — think of the things one may buy at 
such a shop, Serafino — plump ducks, and tender 
chickens, that stewed or roasted, boiled or fried over 
the embers of a fire, send up the most delicious ” 

“ Forbear, Massoni,” cried Serafino again, bringing 
the worn heels of his boots down with a thud on 
the ground. “You will prove tougher than a ten 
years old drake, but I shall verily begin to pine 
for a slice from your lean sides if you arouse more 
pangs of hunger within me.” 


13 


194 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“And in the shop were nothing but hooks and 
shelves, except the weazened poulterer himself who 
beat on his own block with a pair of fowl skewers, 
as though it were a drum. The fellow laughed in my 
face when I spoke of provender, for said he, ‘ The whole 
village is on the verge of famine and likely to be, if 
better times are not before us.’ So with that I came away, 
having those useless pieces of money in my pocket, ” 
and Massoni finished with a kick at the empty stew pan. 

There was a little silence after this, for what 
could we talk about ? Our case was no worse than 
that of the others who formed the regiment and were 
quartered in the village. We had eaten up every- 
thing within Macca and for a mile around it, and 
although provisions were promised us, they had not 
arrived. The famine was becoming a reality now, 
and our gaunt faces showed its effects. 

The sun shed its burning heat over the parched 
land, making the waters of the gulf like a sea of 
fire; the dreary time went by slowly, with the flies 
droning a lullaby which angered Serafino to the 
point of madness. 

“ Anon I shall fall asleep, ” he exclaimed, settling 
a blanket pillow to his liking, “ and that is worse 
than being awake, for I do naught but dream of 
feastings. Only yesterday I had a vision of sitting 
in the vine-shaded tavern at Corte, and with me was 
the notary who ” 

“ Who has to be discovered yet for all his hiding,” 
growled MassonL 


THE ENGLISH SHIPS. 


195 


“And said Signor Poli with a softness of speech 
that was not to be resisted, ‘Serafino, my friend,' 
said he, there are goodly days in store for you yet 
— you are to be a great man and a powerful, so 
take this toothsome morsel of food’ — here he held 
out to me the wing of a vulture on a fork big 
enough for the raking of a haymeadow. What do 
you make of a dream of that sort, Massoni?” 

Massoni shrugged his shoulders without replying, 
and Serafino continued, 

“ With that, I began to sing to the notary, and then 
came the she-dragon, who bowed thrice at my feet 
with a shake of her snaky hair before she seized 
her master the notary by the shoulders, and went 
flying through the vine branches with the wretch, 
whose shrieks died away, and I awoke to find you 
snoring in the moonlight, Massoni, like to a man 
on the brink of death. Those dreams come of an 
empty stomach, and I dread the approach of sleep. 
How long did that brigand baker tell you the miller 
would be in coming from Questinado?” 

“Three days at the earliest,” answered Massoni; 
“so rest you content till then, Serafino. Three 
days.” 

“ Ugh !” growled the other. “ Why did I trouble 
to save my famishing body at Sant Antonio, where 
it might be resting peacefully otherwise. What is 
the hour, Camilla?” 

“Three o’clock chimed a little while ago,” I an- 
swered, giving a glance out on the sunlit waters, 


196 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


and then neither of us spoke for some time again, 
each satisfied with his own gloomy thoughts, 1 sup- 
pose. I was thinking of the time when I had seen 
Nasone in Ajaccio; of my cousin and his crimes 
against me; of Teodor and the quarrel he and I 
had had, and all the events which followed it — when 
suddenly there came drifting toward the land, under 
full sail (the wind was light as a breath), two ships, 
and there were colours at their mastheads such as 
I had never seen. The flags were white, barred 
crosswise with blue and red, and Massoni sprang 
to his feet at my excited call. Serafino lay still, 
telling me that the sight was nothing but the 
“ Mirage.” 

“ Say that someone is bringing me a cask of 
wine and a cartful of food and I will rise to my 
feet, but not for the most enticing dream will I do 
so. Indeed, what with hunger and longing I doubt 
my own strength to reach the door of this palace 
even.” And with this Serafino began singing the 
most doleful melody ever heard in Corsica. We 
took no notice of him, however, for from the village 
that lay below the hut, a throng of people were 
hurrying down the shore, whilst from the two ships 
came boats laden to the water’s edge, rowing to 
land. 

“They are English ships,” shouted Massoni. 
“ Their flag is the English flag and, look Camilla — 
the vessels have dropped anchor. Get up, Serafino 
the unbeliever — see for yourself and then, if you 


THE ENGLISH SHIPS. 


197 


have strength to run, follow us to the shore, for 
by all the saints in the calendar, there are the wine 
casks and cart-loads of food come to us in reality.” 

W e were out of the hut and down the hill before 
another minute had elapsed, Serafino thundering 
after us with the stride of a horse, and then we 
had mingled in an excited crowd, seeing Cesario 
and some others at the edge of the rippling water 
awaiting the arrival of the boats. 

What were the wildest dreams or the wildest 
hopes, compared with what was passing before my 
eyes during the rest of the day. Boat load after 
boat load of provisions and stores of war were landed 
on shore, brought from those English ships that 
lay at anchor in the gulf, presents brought us from 
unknown and mysterious friends of Corsica. The 
captains of the ships, who came on land and talked 
in a tongue that sounded harshly to my ears, told 
nothing which would unravel the mystery, and the 
English sailors would take no compensation for their 
laborious work of disembarking the cargoes, although 
money was offered them freely. Through the heat 
of the glowing afternoon the work never ceased, 
and when night fell it was continued, until a great 
heap of food, wine, powder, shot, and arms was 
upon the shore, closely guarded by Sergeant Serafino 
and a company of ragged soldiers. 

It was mid-night before the last of the boats 
returned to the ships, carrying the jovial Englishmen 
whose language we could not understand, nor they 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


198 

ours. The village of Macca had been busier that 
day than ever it had been yet: filled with the merry 
laughter and voices of the strangers, and amongst 
these I had witnessed a fair-haired lad whose dress 
denoted him to be an officer. But in the tumult 
and excitement of the landing I lost sight of him, 
and there were too many other matters to engage 
my attention than to watch his movements. 

None in Macca went to bed supperless that night, 
nor was there a soldier but had his powder flask 
replenished and his bullet pouch refilled. We were 
ready to march against foes twice our number, to 
fight and conquer too, though the enemy might be 
behind the walls of a fortress, and until dawn broke 
again the sounds of song and merriment never 
ceased. Nor did our heartfelt thanks to our unknown 
friends, for the name “ Englishman ” — we had learnt 
that word which was never to be forgotten nor 
unblessed in Corsica hereafter — roused such enthu- 
siasm as no name of Saint or conqueror had ever 
evoked. Our benefactors’ names, their condition 
and station were never known, but that their noble 
hearts had beaten responsive to the sufferings of 
Corsica and their generous hands brought help to us, 
will never fade from a Corsican’s grateful memory. 

The ships had gone an hour or more, the bosom 
of the gulf rose and fell with undisturbed quietude 
once more; mysteriously as they had appeared, so 
had vanished those stalwart, ruddy-faced seamen, 
whose only request had been a little wine with 


THE ENGLISH SHIPS. 


199 


which to drink to the success of the Corsican nation, 
and in our hut half way up the hill from the village, 
Serafino’s voice was bellowing out a song of rejoic- 
ing. And we who listened, nearly stunned by the 
volume of noise, seated at a table dragged to the 
hut from Macca — for we had guests that night — 
were applauding him, when there came the sound 
of someone beating upon the hut door, and a voice 
that spoke as the Englishmen had spoken as they 
landed our stores on the beach of the gulf of Isola 
Rossa. 


CHAPTER XXn. 


MARTIN CHICHELEY. 

M ASSONI who was nearest the door opened 
it quickly, and then entered the hut the fair- 
haired lad whom I have before mentioned, 
and a hearty laugh burst from him as he gazed 
round upon us. Serafino stopped in his song and 
for a moment we were silent, as the merry-faced 
stranger came forward, leaning his hands on the 
rickety table, and saying something which none of 
us could comprehend. He was tall and broad- 
shouldered, dressed as a sailor, the lace on his hat 
and coat denoting that he was an officer; and there 
he stood, neither he nor we able to understand 
each other, until at last Serafino held out his big 
hand which the stranger shook, and then with a 
smile the newcomer turned to me. 

Cesario had been watching the little scene from 
a corner of the hut, and coming forward said some- 
thing in French, which language I knew, and our 
strange visitor answered him with a hesitating tongue, 
but yet in a way that enabled him to give an 
explanation for his coming. 


200 


MARTIN CHICHELEY. 


201 


“The Englishman has been left behind when the 
ships sailed, ” Cesario told us. “ He had wandered 
inland and lost his way. When he returned to the 
shore at last it was to find himself alone.” 

The stranger, during Cesario’s speech, burst into 
another laugh, nodding his head to me, as though 
quite understanding what was being said ; and Sera- 
fino stretching across the table handed him a pan- 
nikin brimming with wine, which the Englishman 
took, and standing up cried “ Corsica ” as he drank, 
and when he did this, there was a cheer raised 
which made the mud walls tremble. He was no 
longer a stranger to us, but a comrade from that 
moment, and a dozen hands were held out to him, 
and a dozen voices welcomed him. What a grip he 
gave mine I remember, strong and firm as only 
Serafino’s big fingers could have given, and his blue 
eyes were dancing with delight as he seated himself 
beside me and we began to speak in what French 
we were capable of. 

Yet it enabled us to comprehend each other, and 
I learned that the Englishman’s name was Martin 
Chicheley, and that he was an officer in one of 
the ships which had brought us the gifts of pro- 
visions and ammunition from some unknown friends 
of my country. Further than this he would say 
nothing, except that it troubled him to think of what 
his companions would say of his disappearance, and 
that it puzzled him to discover how he was ever 
to rejoin them. But he was laughing again the next 


202 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


instant, being one of the merriest-hearted fellows 1 
had ever spoken to, and a welcome change from 
the despondency of my companions. 

It was wonderful how quickly and easily we began 
to understand one another after this, and it was not 
long, counting by days, before Martin had learnt 
enough of our language to speak to me in it. And 
doing this I gathered some knowledge of his own, 
although I thought and think now, that the English 
tongue is the most difficult one to speak of any in 
the whole world. Let me say then at this point 
that the conversations which Martin and I held 
were disjointed and full of quaint errors of speech 
at first, but that very swiftly we were able to talk 
freely. 

But greater pleasure than this was the great 
friendship which sprang up between us, a friendship 
that was to last and grow greater as the years went 
past, from the moment when, in the mud hut on the 
slopes of Macca, Martin Chicheley and I met for 
the first time. How his eyes laughed as he watched 
the merrymaking and listened to the babble of talk ; 
how he clapped his hands when Serafino roared out 
his song, joining in the refrain of it, and with what 
a jovial manner he sang one of his English songs. 
It was all a strange confusion of sounds to us 
in the hut, however, yet the music of the song 
and the music of the voice that sang, made us 
listen with eager desire to hear more. How his 
clear notes rang out on the silent night, and Sera- 


MARTIN CHICHELEY. 


203 


fino who sat as though a spell had been cast over 
him, sprang to his feet when it ended and grasped 
the stranger from that far-off land, that some in the 
hut had never heard the name of even, with his 
two great brawny hands, and vowed by every saint 
he could remember in his excitement, that never 
since the days of Apollo had a sweeter singer nor 
diviner song been heard. Martin and I have made 
merry since then, in recalling Serafino’s words, for 
it was but a homely song after all, and old enough 
to have been sung by Martin’s great-grandfather, 
yet as to the sweetness of the singer’s voice, in 
that I agree with Serafino, for never yet sang one 
more sweetly than did this Englishman. 

> This then was the manner in which Martin Chiche- 
ley and I became friends and close companions, 
whilst it was not very long, as I have already said, 
before I knew his history and he mine. His father 
was an honourable gentleman, so Martin told me, 
and his home was far inland from the sea, but for 
all that, nothing pleased Martin more than when 
his father made a sailor of him. 

“ So to sea I went” (I am repeating his words as 
remember them) “ and with Captain MacDiarmid 
— that’s a Scotch name, Camilla,” he said, seeing 
me shrug my shoulders at the uncouth word, “and 
there is not a braver, stronger, nor more honourable 
race than the Scotch, search where you will — with 
Captain MacDiarmid I went two voyages. The 
third was to this Corsica of yours, and here I have 


204 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


got into a harbour that I shall never find my way 
out of it seems to me, for how to get aboard ship 
again, to say nothing of reaching England, is im- 
possible for me to discover.” 

“ There may come a vessel presently, ” I answered, 
a sorrowful thought passing through me as I said 
this, “ in which you may sail. There were trading 
ships that sailed from Bastia, whilst from Ajaccio 
there ” 

“ And how am I to gain Bastia or Ajaccio, ” 
interrupted he ; “ for I know them only by seeing 
their names on Captain MacDiarmid’s map of the 
sea. I have no money — that sounds strange you’ll 
say, when my father is one of the richest men in 
Staffordshire — but it’s the truth. I left my purse in 
my locker aboard ship when I came ashore, and it 
is ill travelling without one. Nay, I’ll have nothing 
to do with your Bastias and Ajaccios, but just stay 
with you, or march with you, and if there is more 
fighting to be done, fight these beggarly Genoese 
with you.” 

My heart leaped for joy when he said this, and 
it was not long before Cesario heard Martin’s reso- 
lution. The order had come for us to quit Mac^a 
and join another body of Corsicans that were coming 
from Corte at the time, and before the day was 
out Martin Chicheley had put a cartridge belt over 
his laced coat and armed himself with one of the 
new guns that had been sent us by our unknown 
friends from England. Side by side we marched 


MARTIN CHICHELEY. 


205 


down through the village and out into the moun- 
tainous country, with new life in our purpose, 
and what was even better than that, full stores of 
ammunition at our side, and goodly weapons in our 
hands. 

The talk of peace was at an end, the despair 
brought by the refusal of Genoa to accept it, 
forgotten. It was their turn now to negotiate for 
peace, and ours to reject the proposal. For amid 
the rumours that were always in the air, was one 
that a great foreign power was to assist the 
Corsicans in gaining their liberty, and freedom from 
the yoke of the oppressor. More than this, we had 
the means of carrying on the conflict, and the will 
to do so. Every day brought recruits to the army 
of patriots, and each morning the final overthrow 
of our enemies came nearer. 

Amongst those who joined us was a man from, 
the village where we had bivouacked after a toil- 
some march, who matched Serafino for height and 
strength, but was of such a surly disposition that it 
was without much relish for his company that we saw 
him stretch his long body before the fire, where 
Martin, Massoni, and I, with some others, were 
resting. Martin made space for the rough fellow, 
saying something in his merry way that sent a laugh 
round, and our new comrade glanced up, scowling 
at him. Martin had turned his face to me at that 
moment and did not notice this, going on with his 
talk 9-nd laughter, until suddenly he moved round 


2o6 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


to our new companion, whose long body prevented 
Martin from feeling the warmth of the fire. 

“We like fair play in England,” said Martin good- 
humouredly, “ my friend, as much as we like fair 
fighting. The fire will never get through your big 
body and the air is chilly. Make a little room.” 

He said this as best he could in our language, 
but the ruffianly fellow paid not the slightest heed 
to it, except to spread himself wider before the 
blaze and growl a word or two under his breath. 

“ They teach manners too in my country, ” went 
on Martin, his face reddening a little, but he said 
nothing further and moved away from the group. 
I wondered at this, for the fellow who had behaved 
so rudely, gave a jeering laugh as with his blood- 
shot eyes he looked after Martin, and I could not 
help thinking that my friend had shown but little 
spirit. Anyone else, I thought, would have resented 
the insult. The matter passed off, however, without 
further words, and very soon the weary soldiers 
were lying, sleeping peacefully after our long 
march. 

I understood that we should join the main body 
of insurgents next day. Serafino who marched 
beside the rank in which were Martin and myself, 
with two other men whose names I have forgotten, 
told me this, and that without doubt we should lay 
siege to one of the fortified places I have men- 
tioned. 

“ And the Saints deliver it into our hands, ” he 


MARTIN CHICHELEY. 


207 


continued, “ for never yet wanted I new clothes 
and new boots more than at this moment.” 

He certainly was ragged enough for any beggar, 
but his condition was not worse than mine or the 
others’. We were all ragged, and for the most 
part shoeless, and what with fighting and marching 
our clothes were past the art of mending. 

“I see myself already in a dress such as a Cor- 
sican sergeant should wear,” went on Serafino, 

“ and a hat that General Rivarola might use. I 
will have a feather — nay, why not two feathers in 
it, and they shall be the longest to be got, and held 
in by a buckle of silver. I imagine myself in it, 
Camilla. ” 

I was laughing at his description, when suddenly 
Martin gave a little cry and turned to the fellow 
who was marching in the rank behind us. It was- 
the man who had joined the regiment last, and 
behaved so rudely at our camping place. He had 
trodden on Martin’s heels, and when my companion 
remonstrated with him for so doing, the unmannerly 
fellow gave a sneering answer, threatening to repeat 
his clumsy insult, and calling Martin by an ugly name. 

Martin made no answer, but the red came across 
his cheeks again, and his blue eyes shot out a 
glance. Yet he held his tongue, and those who had 
noticed the affair, joined in a laugh against him. 
This made me angry, and I found my hand touch- 
ing the hilt of my stiletto, as I spoke to my com- 
panion. 


2o8 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“The fellow is set upon insulting you,*^ I whis- 
pered. “ He will do worse before long unless 
he is chastised.” 

Martin looked at me, and there was something 
in the glance which I could not understand. 

“When 1 sailed with Captain MacDiarmid, ” he 
said very quietly, “ I was taught discipline, and 
helped to maintain it aboard ship.” 

“ But the insult ! ” I exclaimed. “ One cannot 
submit to the fellow’s insolence.” 

“And therefore,” continued Martin, as though he 
had not heard my words, “seeing that we are sol- 
diers on the march, discipline must be kept up.” 

“ But what will you do ? ” I asked, feeling angry 
at his calmness under an insult. “ He will behave 
worse to you after this.” 

Martin’s eyes twinkled and a smile was in them. 

“ I don’t think that,” he answered, “ but you must 
have patience, Camilla. Wait until the order to 
halt comes.” 

I did not enquire as to what I was to wait for. 
The matter could have been easily settled. Say that 
Massoni had been in Martin’s place, two minutes 
would have seen his stiletto in the ruffian’s ribs and 
the insult repaid. “Alas,” I thought, “this English- 
man’s cold blood has made a coward of him.” 

The laughter continued and I could distinguish 
many a jeering remark made by those who seemed 
to bear ill-will against Martin, but to all of it he 
seemed deaf. We marched along, neither he nor I 


MARTIN CHICHELEY. 


209 


exchanging’ a word, and at last the order was given 
for us to halt for the midday meal. We had reached 
a broad spread of grass land, where in a few 
moments, fires had been kindled and the day’s 
rations had been served out to us from the carts 
which accompanied the troop. Serafino, Martin and 
I were seated together a yard or two apart from 
the group amongst whom I saw the fellow sitting 
who had insulted my companion. He was talking 
loudly, casting his sneering looks at us, and I caught 
a word or two that set my blood boiling. Martin 
listened an instant and then got to his feet, and I 
watched him, grieved that he lacked the courage 
to chastise the ruffian. But I did not understand 
an Englishman in those days. 

My companion said not a word, but I saw him 
remove the belt from his shoulder, and. the sword 
from his side, placing them on the ground close to 
me; and then, unarmed, he went straight to the 
group which I have mentioned, and because I 
feared the danger he ran, I followed him. He took 
no notice of me, however, but with a calmness that 
a Corsican could never have assumed, addressed 
himself to the big man by whom he had been so 
rudely treated, who was in the act of lifting a cup 
to his lips. 

“ Put that down,” said Martin quietly, although 
his words might have been heard twenty yards off, 
“ I have something to say to you, my friend.” 

The man did as he was ordered, from the very 

14 


210 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


surprise of the command, and stared back at Martin, 
uttering a coarse oath. 

“The Englishman,” he growled. “He who was 
trampled upon. Say what you will then, and go.” 

“You must stand up to hear me,” replied Martin; 
and then as the fellow refused to move, my com- 
panion seized him by the ear, and with a howl he 
got to his feet. Never yet had I seen such fury 
depicted on a human face as he showed, and there 
was a dead silence as Martin and he stood con- 
fronting each other, we who had gathered round 
watching them closely. 

“ I am going to chastise you, ” said Martin very 
quietly, “ because I dislike to be trodden on for 
one reason, and because I dislike a great deal more 
to be laughed at.” 

The fellow stared harder than ever, not quite 
understanding I suppose, for Martin spoke awkwardly, 
but how the chastising was to be done puzzled me, 
for my companion had left his weapons behind and 
stood barehanded. 

“You will fight with me then?” laughed the big 
ruffian, drawing a knife and beginning to creep 
round his opponent, bending his body for the spring. 

Martin nodded his head. “ But it must be in my 
way — in the way Englishmen fight,” he answered. 
“ I am a stranger amongst you, and your blood- 
thirsty knife-play is unknown to me. I will teach 
you a better one.” 

There was a murmur of approval, and one of the 


MARTIN CHICHELEY. 


211 


bystanders seized the fellow’s hand that held the 
knife whilst Martin threw his coat off. “ Make 
a little room for us, friends,” he said in his laugh- 
ing way, and then both unarmed, he and his an- 
tagonist stood face to face, and with a gentle tap 
Martin touched the other on the cheek, and sprang 
nimbly backward, holding one arm across his breast 
and the other extended. 

His opponent with a snort of rage flung out his 
great fists, each fit and strong enough to have 
felled a bull, but although he struck with all his 
power the blows were guarded off as easily as one 
might puff a feather aside. IMartin never moved 
his feet, but by a turn of the arm, warded the 
assault as he cast a quick glance at me, and the 
on-lookers laughed. 

This seemed to enrage his opponent wellnigh to 
madness, for with a cry of anger he sent out a 
volley of blows that were rained down on Mar- 
tin’s head, and straight at his throat, yet never 
one of them touched. With an ease and adroit- 
ness past belief Martin stood, content to guard him- 
self; but suddenly his fist lashed out and catching 
his antagonist on the point of the chin, the big fel- 
low went flying off his feet to come in a heap to 
the ground. 

He was up again the next instant, but Martin 
had changed his method now. Moving forward a 
pace, holding his head well back, he met the on- 
slaught of his antagonist with a blow that seemed 


212 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


to pass straight betweeij the long arms of his foe 
and into his eyes, there was a stream of blood from 
the fellow’s nose, and then with his right hand 
Martin caught him again on the point of the chin, 
and I saw the jaw start aside and drop as if broken, 
whilst Martin had recovered his position, standing with 
his arms placed as I have already described, and 
there went up a cheer. 

But with a roar the huge fellow had rushed for- 
ward, dealing blows right and left, and Martin drew 
back from them. Once I saw him stagger, but he 
had recovered his position, and it was when his 
opponent, gathering all his great strength for the 
attack, came towering on him as it looked to me, 
Martin stepped aside and evaded the charge, hit 
out at the giant’s head, and there was a crash as 
when a smith smites on an anvil. Down on his 
knees, and from his knees to the ground went the 
big body, and Martin stood waiting for him to arise. 
This after a little delay he did, and I saw him 
snatch a dagger from the belt of one of the by- 
standers — there was raised a cry of warning, but 
Martin needed none. Quick as one might have 
thought it he had stooped, grasping his foe by 
thigh and foot, there was a sudden whirling in the 
air, and before I could realise it, Martin had thrown 
over his shoulder the heavy body of his murderous 
antagonist, and with the blood pouring from his 
mouth the fellow lay insensible. 

Without heeding his victory, Martin walked through 



A sudden whirling 


in ihe air and the fellow lay insensible. 


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212 









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MARTIN CHICHELEY. 


213 


the cheering crowd back to our resting place, and 
I was beside him. There were no thoughts now 
that my comrade lacked spirit of courage, only a 
wild admiration for his bravery and manliness. 
There had been no vainglorious ^speech, nor taunts, 
but in his quiet method — I cannot call it a gentle 
one — he had cleared away the stain of insult, and 
repaid the jeers of the tormentor and his companions. 
And here he was laughing and enjoying his meal 
as though nothing had happened, although his 
knuckles were bleeding. 

“ Better that way than your knifing fights,” he 
said, “ which are too dangerous and deadly for my 
liking.” 

“ I never saw a quarrel settled in that fashion 
before,” I answered. “I should like to learn the 
way of it.” 

“Then you must go home with me, Camilla,” he 
laughed. “ For only in England do men fight like 
that. Why, there are those in my native village 
who would take half a dozen of these ruffianly 
fellows I see about me, and serve them as I served 
the one yonder. Say then, will you come to England 
with me if ever the chance offers itself of quitting 
Corsica ? ” 

“Willingly,” I exclaimed; “I have nothing that 
should keep me here — yet I must recover my lost 
inheritance first.” 

There was no time to speak further on that 
point just then, for the order to re-assemble rang 


214 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


out, and we reformed company. Martin’s late foe 
had recovered some of his senses by this time, and 
was standing with his jaw bound up, ready for 
marching. There was no more treading on heels, 
no more jests nor sneers were heard, but many a 
handshake was offered Martin before we stepped 
forward on the road to join our fellow soldiers, and 
enter again into conflict with our foes. And the 
thought came over me that no victory we might 
gain could ever be so glorious as Martin Chicheley's 
over his ruffianly tormentor. 


CHAPTER XXIIL 

LOST. 

I T was the next day that we joined the main 
body of Corsicans, which were under the com- 
mand of General Giafferi, and learnt that an 
attack upon Bastia by the combined forces of the 
insurgents was meditated. We were well-armed, 
and if we marched bare-headed and bare-footed, as 
indeed very many of us did, we had the less to 
hinder us in the fighting. So said Serafino, who 
was gaunt as a skeleton almost, with hard work and 
scanty food, the provisions being too carefully 
husbanded for anyone of us to get more than one 
meal a day, and that not the most satisfying. 

We were in high spirits, however, tramping 
along dusty roads, and through deep valleys, seeing 
everywhere around us traces of the condition into 
which the war had brought the land, and the hardships 
that were suffered by the people. Fields lay untilled, 
for who knew who might gather the fruits of them ; 
vineyards and olive groves were neglected and left soli- 
tary, cottagers’ homes were without inhabitants, and 
turn which way one might, the picture was one of 

*15 


2i6 king for a summer. 

desolation. We heard that in some parts of the 
island the inhabitants were starving, and that deeds 
of crime were constantly being perpetrated by banditti 
who, contrary to the usual custom of those who 
had fled outlawed to the wild fastnesses amid the 
mountains, had joined in bands to ravage whole 
districts. Ordinarily the life led by a man banned 
by the law, and with the sentence of death pronounced 
upon him, was a solitary one, and only rarely 
did he associate himself with more than one or two 
others in the like condition as his own, but now the 
opportunity for outrage and plunder had brought 
them together, and we heard tales of their cruel 
deeds, how they spared neither man nor woman 
who dared oppose them, and with these stories we 
heard others of wild revenge and ruthless murder. 
Massoni told me this — although how he gained the 
information I know not — whispering as we marched 
shoulder to shoulder, and he would cast a look at 
Serafino whilst he spoke, as though fearful that his old 
comrade of the “ Macchia^ might overhear him. 

We were making a circuitous approach toward 
Bastia, and on the march more men had joined the little 
army, so that we presented a formidable array. W e had 
but little artillery, however, our store of powder, like 
our provisions, being too small in amount for cannon 
fire to be long maintained. We needed every grain of 
it for our guns, and although the tumbrels and heavy 
cannon carriages, few as they were, made a brave show, 
we depended mostly upon ournumbers to capture Bastia. 


LOST. 


217 


It was afternoon, and through the heat of the 
morning we had marched until coming to a well- 
wooded glen a longer halt had been made than was 
usually the case. Under the shade of the trees we 
lay, having eaten our dinner, which was a scantier 
one than the preceding day’s, and a good deal of 
grumbling was the result. 

“The Saints deliver Bastia into our hands speed- 
ily,” said Serafino in a solemn way as he sat rest- 
ing his head upon his hands, looking up into the 
leafy boughs, “ or we shall be eating one another 
ere long. Here comes Cesario, looking as grave as 
that iron-faced commandant of the castle at Corte who 
told us so civilly that we were to be hanged. ” 

As he spoke Cesario came threading his way 
through the little group of men, until he reached 
the spot were Martin Chicheley and I were seated, 
and bent down to me. 

“I have some work for you, Camilla,” he said 
so softly that I doubt if Martin heard what was 
said. “ There is a message to be carried to Gen- 
eral Castineta, who is bringing some troops from 
Ajaccio to join us. It is of the greatest importance 
that he should receive the message before twenty- 
four hours have gone by. General Giafferi has 
ordered me to choose whom I will to execute the 
errand, and there is no one I would trust sooner than 
you. It is an errand of difficulty, maybe of danger. 
Will you accept the duty?” 

“ If I may choose my companion,” I replied, and 


2X8 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


before Cesario could answer I had turned to Martin. 

“I am asked to take a letter to General Casti- 
neta,” I said. “Will you go with me, Martin? ” 

“ If we can get back here in time to help in the 
taking of Bastia,” he answered. “I mustn’t miss 
that piece of fun.” 

“ It will take three days, coming and going,” 
said Cesario, “and you will return with the force 
under the command of General Castineta.” 

“ Then say no more about it,” laughed Martin. 
“ When shall we start ? ” 

“ Within the hour, ” replied Cesario. “ Come with me, 
Camilla, to Signor Giafferi, who will give you the letter 
and all needful instructions. ” And with this I left Martin 
and accompanied Cesario to where the commander of 
the expedition was sitting, surrounded by a group of 
officers. He eyed me keenly, speaking in a sharp, abrupt 
manner, and I answered him without wasting my words. 

“ You know the roads between here and Ajaccio? ” 
he asked. 

“Yes, Signor,” I answered. 

“You will deliver this letter to General Cas- 
tineta? Within twenty-four hours?” 

“I will do so, unless I am prevented by force.” 

“Good,” he replied, 

“ And if I am unable to do so ? ” I asked. 

“The letter will be useless — but as you value 
your honour and the cause for which we are fight- 
ing, see that the message passes to none but General 
Castineta. You understand me?” 


LOST. 


219 


“ Quite well, Signor, ” I said. 

I saw Cesario bend down and whisper a word or 
two to General Giafferi, whose stern manner relaxed 
whilst he listened, and a kindly smile came into his 
sunburnt face. Rising from his seat, he held out 
his hand which I took. 

“ I wish you success,” he said, “ and a safe return. 
I shall not forget the service you have done me,” 
and I gave a bow as we shook hands. Then I 
went back to Martin, having beneath my ragged 
coat the letter which had been entrusted to me. 
In a few moments Cesario returned to us with some 
trifling directions as to the route we should take 
in order to strike the main road from Ajaccio by 
which the troops under General Castineta would 
advance, explaining that the attack upon that town 
had been postponed, in order to concentrate all the 
forces at command upon Bastia. 

Cesario went a little way with us, warning me 
to keep a careful watch during my journey, and he 
did this so seriously that I understood that the dif- 
ficulties and dangers he had hinted at would be 
very real ones, but I kept my thoughts to myself. 
I had a companion in whom I could trust if the hour 
of danger came, and we were well armed. Cesa- 
rio left us at a point a short way up the steep 
path, from which we could look down at the place 
where the little army of ill-clad, hungry patriots 
had encamped, and I saw my comrades already 
stirring to resume the march. With a hasty word 


220 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


or two of farewell Cesario went back to them, and 
I remember seeing his agile figure descending and 
hearing the words of command, for the troops to 
fall in, coming up to where Martin and I stood, lit- 
tle thinking at that moment, how long a time 
would elapse before we saw our old companions 
again, or of the strange adventures and dangers 
that we were to encounter. My thoughts were 
only upon the duty which we had undertaken and 
the need for us to hasten to perform it, so with a 
last glance at the retreating forms of the soldiers 
Martin and I turned our faces in the direction of 
the solemn mountains, and began our long tramp to- 
ward Ajaccio. 

“ How long is the walk of ours to be ? ” asked 
Martin, as we breasted an almost perpendicular rock, 
to find ourselves amid a silence that one can only 
meet with in the mountains, “ and when shall we 
gain the main road, Camilla? ” 

“We ought to reach the foot of Monte Rotondo 
before nightfall,” I answered, keeping a watchful 
glance for a landmark Cesario had described to 
me. “ There is a ruined chapel somewhere here- 
about, and we turn from that going downward.” 

“I am contented enough with being where I 
am,” continued Martin. “We have no glorious 
places such^ as this in England, that seems like a 
bit out of fairy-land.” 

It was indeed a beautiful part to which we had 
come. The brown rocks were decked with flowers, 


LOST. 


221 


and the turf was smooth as velvet under our feet; 
a thicket of myrtles covered with white blossoms, 
amid which clematis hung in garlands, casting a 
welcome shade, whilst around us were rosemary 
and broom, and tall clumps of lilac-blossomed heath. 
Cork trees dotted the swelling earth here and there, 
together with prickly cactus, wild fig trees, and 
oleanders; and the scent of sweet-smelling herbs 
and flowers was in the soft air. The scene made 
one forget the savage conflicts which had devastated 
this beautiful island, and the suffering of its poverty- 
stricken inhabitants. 

“ Where does this ruined chapel stand ? ” asked 
Martin as we walked on again (we had stayed our 
feet a moment to gaze around, I remember), and 
were approaching another change in the track ; 
“ because it seems to me, Camilla, that a few sign- 
posts — such as we have in England — would be useful 
things. Suppose we lose our way?” 

“ I do not think that is very likely,” I answered 
laughing. “ This is not my first journey amongst 
the mountains. The road lies somewhere yonder,” 
and I pointed my finger in the direction we were 
to take, our talk going back to the wrongs I had 
suffered at the hands of Fabiani Brasco, as it very 
often had done when Martin and I sat side by side 
at the camp fire. 

“You ought to see Mr. Emanuel Matra,” said 
Martin in his English way of speaking ; “ for depend 
upon it, if anyone is to help you, he is the man. 


222 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


How should I speak to him? does he dislike his 
name of Nasone?” 

“ I doubt whether either you or I will have the 
chance to see Nasone for many a long day,” was 
my answer. “ We have too much to do, before 
that comes, and who knows whether or no I shall 
have any need to trouble myself or anyone else 
about land and money presently.” 

“That is true,” replied Martin in his cool way. 
“We may get a bullet through our heads, you mean. 
I hope not, however, for I want to see my old 
house once more at any rate, and what is more, I 
want you to go there with me.” 

It was a subject we had often talked about, this 
going of mine with Martin Chicheley to England, if 
ever the opportunity came for so doing, and I had 
quite made up my mind to accept the invitation. 

“ I must have an understanding with my cousin 
first,” I answered, “ and it is for that reason I mean 
to get into Bastia. He and his son are there, along 
with the notary of Corte.” 

Martin had heard the story about Signor Poli and 
he burst into a laugh when I mentioned him now. 

“ Signor Poli ! ” he cried. “ I shall be glad to see 
the meeting between him and Cesario and his friends. 
What will happen ? ” 

“ Massoni will shoot him as certainly as the sun 
is in the sky,” I answered. „That is, if Serafino 
does not do so first. Revenge is a sweet thing, 
Martin.” 


LOST. 


223 


•Forgiveness is a sweeter," he replied; and then 
he began whistling as if nothing more need be 
said about the notary. 

The sun was sinking when we reached a point in 
our journey from which the ruined chapel which 
Cesario had described to me, ought to have been 
visible; but although we scanned in every direction, 
we were unable to discover it, and a feeling of 
dismay came into my mind that I might have lost 
the way to the landmark. The consciousness of the 
delay this mistake of mine might occasion in the 
delivery of the letter to General Castineta, troubled 
me greatly, and I resolved to push on through the 
rapidly approaching darkness in order to discover 
the road which led into Ajaccio. I said nothing 
of my fears, however, to my companion, and after 
a useless stoppage of some moments we stepped on 
again. 

It was black night already in the woody depths 
below us, and the glistening summit of Monte 
Rotondo from which the snow cap never melts, had 
become hidden by a thick curtain of clouds that had 
gathered to add to the gloom which seemed to have 
suddenly changed the face of the landscape and 
blotted out the beauty of it. Whilst I paused for 
an instant a blast of furious wind came sweeping 
through the gorge to which we had come, a peal 
of thunder which roared and echoed seemed to shake 
the very mountains, and a flash of lightning so vivid 
that it lit up the scene around us as with fire, dazzled 


224 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


our eyes, leaving a dense darkness upon them as the 
flash passed away. 

It had shown us, however, that the descent into 
the gorge would be a perilous venture, for the rock- 
strewn ground was precipitous and black as pitch. 
Down it ran a hissing stream from the heights, and 
I knew that within a few minutes after the impend- 
ing rainfall, the stream would be a raging torrent 
which would sweep us along in its descent, should 
we be caught by it. The wind was a hurricane 
now, before which we stooped and were almost 
driven backward, but gaining the shelter of a break in 
the mountain side we crouched down breathlessly. 

“ There will be no getting to Ajaccio,” said Martin, 
as he shielded his eyes from another blinding flash, 
“ unless the wind is good enough to carry us there, 
like a pair of witches.” 

“ But the letter, Martin ! ” I exclaimed. “ That 
must be given to General Castineta. We promised, 
remember. ” 

“ Ay, I know we promised, ” he replied ; “ but 
who was to guess that this storm was lurking for 
us. Listen! ” 

There was no mistaking the sound. I had often 
heard it as I had sat in the room in my cousin’s 
house, and watched the gathering of a storm amongst 
the hills. It was the rain coming, with a hoarse 
moan, and the next moment in all the strength of 
its fury the water fell, spouting over the rocky lip 
beneath which we had sought shelter, and down 


LOST. 


225 


the mossy track we had passed, the stream growing 
each moment wider and deeper, foaming and roaring, 
churning itself white in the lightning glare and 
dashing madly down the gorge. It would have 
been certain death had we been in the path of the 
torrent, whilst even where we stood it was dangerous. 
The tempest howled and tore its way through the 
trees, and we could hear the crash of splintered 
branches and trunks, the lightning bringing every- 
thing around us into sight every few moments. 

“ There is a safer place than this,” shouted Martin, 
amid a second’s lull in the storm. “ I saw an open 
path up above here. Let us reach that, Camilla.” 

I answered without being heard, for a clap of 
thunder deafened us at that moment, and then on 
our hands and knees, for to stand upright was 
impossible, we gained the spot to which Martin 
had pointed. Through the storm, now advancing 
a few paces, and anon shrinking backward from 
the fierce blasts, we reached a place of shelter 
at last, wet to the skin, panting with exertion, and 
so bewildered and confused that if the fate of 
Corsica had depended upon my doing so, I could 
not have told from what direction we had come, 
nor whither we were going. 

Lost among the mountains, without a trace of any 
path, one moment in darkness and the next sur- 
rounded by a blinding light, we went on, groping 
our way helplessly, until Martin came headlong 
over a fallen tree, and when he had recovered his 

15 


226 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


feet we sat down, out of very weariness, two 
drenched, forlorn creatures, to consider the best 
thing to be done. 

“ If it had only been that ruined chapel of yours, ” 
said Martin, trying to laugh, “ I shouldn’t have 
minded breaking my shins over it. Where are we, 
Camilla? ” 

“ I know no more than that we are in the island 
of Corsica,” I answered, “but what particular part 
of it I cannot say. Not far distant from Monte 
Rotondo, however, for I saw its snow cap in the 
last flash of lightning.” 

“ But it is plain that we cannot sit on the 
tree trunk all night,” went on Martin. “Let us 
move on.” 

“Willingly,” I replied, “but one can fall easily 
down a precipice, and I have General Castineta’s 
letter to deliver, remember.” 

“To tell the truth I am too busy remembering 
ourselves just now,” he retorted, “to think of him. 
Let us follow this descent.” 

I made no reply but got my soaking body upright 
again, and facing the wind and rain once more we 
went down the slippery grass slope, and it was 
just as a flash came to shew us an obstacle in the 
path, that Martin gave a shout of joy. 

“ The chapel, ” he cried, “ I saw it distinctly, and 
we are not very far from it. Heave ahead, Camilla, 
brace your main sheet taut and follow me.” 

The fierceness of the tempest had passed by in 


LOST. 


227 


a great measure now, the thunder and lightning 
pealing and glaring further and further from us 
amongst the distant hills, and guided by Martin I 
hastened on, seeing presently through the darkness 
a light, throbbing in the shrill wind, then the blurred 
form of a cottage like a great blot before me, and 
we were hammering with our musket butts at a 
bolted door. 

There was the growl of a dog and the sound of 
a harsh voice that demanded our business, but having 
no breath left in us to answer, Martin beat another 
tattoo on the closed door. 


I 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE RED GAMBIA I. 

T he barking of the dog turned to a savage 
growl, the shrill voice of a woman joined the 
man’s, and what with the howling wind and 
the splash of the heavy rain, Martin’s demand for 
admittance became lost in the uproar, and I know 
not how the matter would have ended, if another 
voice had not unexpectedly come to our aid. It 
was a clear, sweet voice moreover, and stilled the 
others, as we heard it speaking to us through the 
bolted door. 

“We are two travellers,” I answered, “lost in 
the storm, and beg for shelter.” 

“Being wet to the skin and likely to fall over 
the nearest precipice if we move from your door ! ” 
shouted Martin, and at this we heard the bolt 
withdrawn. Then the door opened and I saw the 
grizzled heads of an old man and woman — which 
was the fiercer of the two it would have been hard 
to say — and the face of a dark-eyed girl about my 
own age, who stood holding the lamp between us 
and the old man and woman. 

228 


THE RED GAMBINI. 


22g 


“ You are alone? ” she asked, giving" a glance at 
Martin, and I saw the bright colour come into her 
■'heeks as he made a bow. “ There are two only?” 

The old man had pushed me aside in his eager- 
ness to bolt the door after our entrance, and I was 
hindered in giving my answer. Martin was ready 
enough, however, with his. 

“We are quite alone M’selle,” he said gaily, “and 
as you see us, nearly dead with the storm.” 

“ Come hither then,” exclaimed the old woman, 
who had not yet spoken, “ you shall have what help 
we can give you; yet that is little enough, for the 
times are bad.” 

I looked round at the place, which was a large 
comfortable room, for all that the floor was earthen. 
A fire blazed in the hearth and there were tokens 
that the owner of the house was fairly prosperous. 
A bright red curtain hung before the window, a 
narrow parting in the curtain allowing the gleam 
of the lamp to be seen, by which we had been 
guided, and ranged on shelves were more plates 
and dishes than ever were in my cousin’s house. 
Everything shone with the cleanness of it, and the 
old-fashioned furniture gave a substantial air to the 
place. A meal was ready prepared on the table, 
and as though on guard, a big dog stood beside 
this, its angry growling silenced by a word from 
the girl. 

The man was about sixty years of age, whose 
stooping figure had once been a manly form of 


230 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


great strength. His voice, less harsh than at first, 
had a firm ring, and when a shrewd examination 
of us was ended his manner became^friendly. The 
woman, who was about his own time of life, was 
shrivelled in face and hands, yet without any sign 
of weakness in her gait and speech, and I would 
have noted the bearing and appearance of the girl, 
if, at that moment of the old man’s speaking to us, 
she had not turned away, going to the hearth, 
whence came from a hanging cauldron the most de- 
licious odour ever savoured. 

A few words explained to the farmer, as we dis- 
covered him to be, the cause of our distressed con- 
dition. And the mention that we were from General 
Giafferi’s army brought us a generous welcome in 
a moment. 

“ I am too old and bent to be of service as a 
soldier,” cried Signor Vico (he had already told us 
his name) ; “ yet what lies within my power to aid 
him, I will do gladly. F ollow me and you shall have dry 
clothes, then a good meal, and I will listen whilst you 
recount the tale of my countrymen’s brave deeds.” 

He led the way to a loft-like room, which we 
gained by a ladder from the kitchen, and it was 
not long before we were seated in dry clothing at 
the farmer’s table. 

“ Haste thee, Lucia ! ” he cried. “ One gets the 
hunger of a wolf who travels the mountains! ” And 
the girl thus addressed lifted a steaming dish to 
the table, laughing merrily at our host, whom we 


THE RED GAMBINI. 


231 


speedily discovered to be her grandfather. The old 
woman brought a flagon of wine, and very soon 
we were as merry as though we had known each 
other all our lives. Martin told his history and 
described his native land in a way that made Lucia 
listen intently, forgetful of her shyness; and then I 
saw how beautiful she was, and how deeply Mar- 
tin’s talk interested her. I think he must have 
observed this also, for once or twice he stopped 
speaking, and at these moments Lucia would turn 
to her grandfather, asking some useless question in 
a confused way. 

“ You are going to Ajaccio, you say ” asked 
Signor Vico. “ That is a long way off and a 
thousand dangers lie in the road.” 

“It is of the greatest importance that we start 
early in the morning,” I answered. “ The storm is 
nearly over, and I am disposed to travel through 
the night, for every moment is precious.” 

“ And lose our way again ! ” exclaimed Martin, 
“without the slightest chance of finding another 
shelter. Never think of such a rash thing, Camilla, 
for here we are safe in port, and I don’t trip my 
anchor without having a fair course before me.” 

Lucia’s smooth forehead puckered with a little 
frown of enquiry as Martin spoke, not comprehend- 
ing him clearly, and I thought a fear of something 
troubled her. Perhaps he noticed this also, for the 
next moment he had begun a merry tale to which 
we listened eagerly, for who better than Martin knew 


232 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


the manner of making a story interesting. Then, 
when Martin had finished Signor Vico told us of 
the state into which the country had fallen, an 
account very much the same as I had heard from 
Massoni. 

“ There is a band of cut-throats under a brigand 
who is called ‘The Red Gambini^ infesting the 
country,” he said, “and never before has Corsica 
been so plagued as now. Somewhere amongst the 
mountains of La Titime ‘The Red Gambini’ and 
his companions skulk.” 

“Of what need is this talk, Tomaso! ” cried the 
old woman his wife. “ Better to speak of the bright 
days that are to come to us, and the happy ones 
for little Lucia yonder, who has scarce eaten the meal 
of a bird, with your foolish chatter of Gambini.” 

“ Nay, Lucia has laughed the loudest of us, gentle 
Ursulo,” replied her husband, “whilst as for eating, 
she has a better appetite than mine.” And here 
he turned to me. “ This journey to Ajaccio is 
important then?” 

“ Of the greatest importance, ” I replied, giving a 
glance at Martin, who was so engrossed in his talk 
with Lucia that he did not heed a word I said. 

“ Take counsel of me, ” exclaimed the old woman. 

“ Rest here to-night, and travel by daylight. 
Tomaso will shew you the way, for without a guide 
I doubt if you would ever gain the road to Ajaccio. 
A black night such as this is better spent under 
shelter. ” 


THE RED GAMBINI. 


233 


There was so much good reasoning in this and 
good sense, the welcome to remain was so hearty, 
that I resolved to abide by it ; and so when supper 
was ended we drew round the fire, for although the 
day had been hot the exposed position of the house, 
and the storm that still howled around it, made the 
blaze acceptable. 

Presently a solemn old clock groaned out the 
hour of ten, whereupon the farmer rose from his 
chair, yawning. 

“You and your companion,’* he said, addressing 
Martin, who to tell truth had talked more to Lucia 
than to anyone else, “ must sleep in this room, for 
I have no other to offer you. Yet by the fire, and 
with a blanket each, you will make shift to slumber 
sound enough.” 

“The sounder when one remembers the hillside 
that might have been our lodging,” laughed Martin, 
“ and if ever you should come to England, Signor 
Vico, my father and I will repay you for your kind- 
ness in giving us food and shelter.” 

“ Tush ! ” exclaimed the farmer, his stern features 
softening into a smile. “ There is little to thank 
me for, and the storm has nearly spent itself, al- 
though it has been fierce enough. Come, Lucia, 
get blankets from the clothes press and bring them 
hither, or it will be midnight before I am asleep.” 

Lucia got slowly from her chair and went up 
the ladder, bringing back in a few moments some 
covering for us, and then with a promise to be our 


234 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


guide on the morrow Signor Vico climbed up to 
his room, Dame Ursulo and Lucia following him, 
and when they had disappeared Martin did what I 
had never known him to do before. He heaved a 
deep sigh. 

“ You are sorry that our journey has been delayed, 
Martin, * I said, “ and indeed I am troubled too in 
thinking of the wasted time.” 

“Of course I am very sorry,” he exclaimed in 
the way one speaks who means the contrary to 
his words, “ but I never yet found a port more to 
my liking than this one.” 

“A strange reason for sighing then,” I laughed. 

“Not so strange either when one thinks of the 
waste of time, Camilla,” and it was Martin’s turn 
to laugh. “ But sigh or no sigh, I am glad enough 
to see a good night’s rest before me.” With which 
he rolled one of the blankets round him and stretched 
himself before the fire, with an ancient foot rest 
for a pillow. I piled some fresh logs round the 
hearth and had followed Martin’s example in a few 
moments, whilst for all that our couch was hard- 
trodden earth my companion seemed already sleeping. 
I lay watching the crackling logs beside which the 
dog had curled himself, and listening to the moan 
of the dying tempest I thought of a thousand things 
until I suppose I too fell asleep. 

I was in the midst of one of the strangest dreams 
ever dreamed when a low growl from the dog who 
had moved from the fire and was standing close to 


THE RED GAMBINL 


235 


my head, awoke me. I could see the glint of the 
animal’s bloodshot eyes in the firelight, and marked 
his intent look, but there was a dead silence within 
and without the house. I spoke to the dog softly, 
not wishing to awaken my companion, but as if 
the dumb thing were impatient or indifferent, it 
crept past me, going stealthily in the direction of 
the barred and bolted door. 

The flicker of the fire sent a dim sheen of light 
across the kitchen, but except for this the place was 
full of black shadows and gloom. Martin lay partly 
in the light, sleeping soundly, and save for the 
moan of the wind now and again, there was, as I 
said, perfect quietude. Raising myself on my elbows 
I watched the dog’s movements as he stood with 
an uplifted paw, facing the closed door growling. 
And then amid the heavy silence I heard the soft 
scrape of footsteps outside the house. 

“Martin,” I whispered, crawling toward him and 
touching his shoulder. 

He rolled over, opening his eyes and looking 
at me. 

“What is amiss?” he asked drowsily. “You 
have carried me out of the garden of my old house 
— ay, I can think I am there still.” 

“ Hark ! ” I answered. “ There are footsteps on the 
path outside — the dog heard them before me.” 

“ Some more lost travellers maybe, ” he replied, 
twisting over in his blanket and looking at the dog, 

“ They’ll be late for supper, Camilla. ” 


23 & 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“ Listen ! ” I repeated. “ The window fastening 
is being tried. Travellers say you — the Saints forbid 

that they are not ” and then I stopped, not 

caring to finish the sentence, for upon the ladder, 
closely wrapped in a cloak and holding a lighted 
lamp, was Lucia. 

Martin sprang to his feet, advancing to the ladder 
softly, for Lucia’s finger was upon her lip warn- 
ingly, whilst I went with equal caution to the window, 
drawing aside the heavy curtain and peering out. 

The sheen of the firelight was full on the diamond- 
ed casement, and as I looked through it, there came 
upon the blackness of the night the face of a man — 
nearer and nearer until it was pressing against the 
glass, and I could see every cruel line about the 
drawn-back lips, the ghastly look in the staring 
eyes, and the swift famishing glance (I have no 
other words in which to describe that awful gaze) 
which was set on the room. There was a crimson 
cap drawn down almost to the man’s eyebrows, and 
in that one instant of my returning his look, I saw 
the cap was of rich silk. 

But I had let fall the curtain and was beside 
Martin — Lucia remaining a little way above us — the 
next moment, and I cast a look up her resolute 
face. There was no fear there, yet she had drawn 
backward as though my hasty words had brought 
a horrible misgiving to her. 

“ There is a stranger without,” I said, “ and by the 
look of him not likely to be welcome here, Martin.” 



There came upon the blackness of the night the face of a man. 


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THE RED GAMBINI. 


237 


“Quiet the dog,” he answered hurriedly, for the 
animal was whining and growling as though half 
maddened. “ Perhaps we need not arouse Signor 
Vico. He is an old man.” 

Lucia, however, had already passed over to where 
the dog stood, trembling with eager excitement, and 
at a word from her, he ceased growling, but moved 
close to the door, and Lucia came back to us. 

“There has been talk of brigands,” she said. 
“ You heard my grandfather speak of them, this 
evening at supper time. Our house is a very lonely 
one, and we are thought to be rich. This face” — 
she turned to me, “of what sort was it? Nay, I 
will see for myself, ” and before Martin could prevent 
her she had lifted the curtain, holding the lamp 
high, so that its gleams made the casement bright. 
As she did this there rang ' out the report of 
a musket, and a bullet crashing through the 
casement, struck the upheld lamp, shattering it, and 
splintering itself against the opposite wall. 

Martin uttered a cry and ran forward, lifting the 
girl from her position of deadly danger, yet for all 
that the bullet had been within a few inches of her 
head, she never lost self-possession. 

“ Back ! ” he exclaimed. “ Go back to your room, 
Lucia. This is no place for you ! ” 

There was a tone of entreaty in his voice, and 
she cast a swift smile in return, stooping to a place 
of safety in order to escape another shot, but none 
followed. 


238 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


" I have seen, ” she answered calmly. “ The Saints 
have been merciful in sending you and your friend 
here to aid us to-night” 

“ Whom have you seen ? ” cried Martim 
“The Red Gambini,” she answered. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE ATTACK ON THE FARM. 

L ucia was the calmest of us, for the thought 
that, if indeed that horrible face I had seen at 
the window were the brigand’s, my errand to 
General Castineta might be further hindered, was 
upon me, and I glanced anxiously at Martin who 
stood as though protecting the brave girl. And then 
with a hasty step Signor Vico came stumbling down the 
ladder, followed by Dame Ursulo who carried a light. 
He cast a swift look, first at us and then at the win- 
dow, ordering the two women back to the room above. 

“ I will stay by you, Tomaso, ” replied the old 
woman angrily. “ Let Lucia go to a place of safety.” 
But her husband paid no heed to his wife’s answer. 

“ Who fired that shot ? ” he asked, checking a 
hasty word. 

“ There are men standing on the path, ” I an- 
swered. “ One of them has the face of an evil 
spirit. Lucia says it is ‘The Red Gambini. 

“ The Saints forbid ! ” ejaculated the old man. 
“We are ill prepared to resist him and his mur- 
derous crew.” 


*39 


240 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


We had been standing, grouped by the foot of 
the ladder, everyone too surprised and excited to say 
many words. Not that they were required, the 
danger before us being too clearly understood; and 
as Signor Vico moved to where a great wooden 
shutter used for guarding the window in winter time, 
stood, another bullet came hissing past us, and Dame 
Ursulo shrieked. 

“ Help me with this,” cried the farmer, attempting 
to lift the massive piece of woodwork, as I ran 
forward, taking one end of it, and we placed the 
shutter before the window, fixing it by means of 
holdfasts that were in the wall. Then we made 
sure of the door being secured, and although a shot . 
blew the lock from its place, leaving a jagged rent 
in the stout door, the thick bars that crossed it were 
too sturdy to be easily broken. 

“ Open your door, Vico ! ” shouted a voice from 
outside, and there was the sound of the gathering 
of feet on the gravelly path. “ I am not inclined 
to be patient with such as you.” 

An angry frown settled on the farmer’s face, but 
he made no reply. Turning to me he asked how 
many bullets were in my pouch. 

“Three dozen at the least,” I answered, and then 
Martin was with us, holding his gun in his hand. 

“ Through that hole in the door you and I ought 
to hit two birds, Camilla, ” he said cheerily. “ And 
as this fellow they call Gambini has begun the fight, 
we will take a share in it.” 


THE ATTACK ON THE FARM. 


241 


Our powder had got damp during the storm, but 
Signor Vico had plenty more, and when we had 
primed the pieces afresh, Martin and I went softly 
to where the great rent had been made in the door. 
Crossing the muzzles of our guns in it we fired 
together, and a yell of fury from our assailants was 
the result. « 

“ Excellent ! * cried Martin, springing to his feet 
(we had fired kneeling), “ I warrant they have 
cleared from the doorway outside there! ” And then 
Lucia had crossed to us and given him another 
loaded gun. 

“It is only right to speed the parting guest,* 
he said. “That’s an English proverb, M’selle,” and 
before he had finished speaking Martin fired again 
through the hole. There was no cry, but I heard 
as though someone had gone stumbling, and then 
there was a momentary stillness, the powder smoke 
circling round Dame Ursulo, making her look strange 
and gruesome. 

Not until this instant had I quite realised the 
startling rapidity with which everything had hap- 
pened, nor the deadly peril we were in. The rush of 
Signor Vico from his room; the placing of the 
stout shutter before the window ; the bursting of the 
door lock, and our firing through the jagged rent 
it had left, had all happened as it were in a moment. 
I looked round, seeing Martin standing beside Lucia; 
Dame Ursulo’s red face peering through the smoke 
wreaths, and Signor Vico busying himself at a 

16 


242 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


corner cupboard, taking from it arms and ammuni- 
tion enough almost to have begun the siege of Bastia 
with. Then everything changed in a second, and 
we three men were standing before the door, 
watching it bend and hearing it creak as those 
without attempted to break it open. . The woodwork 
was but a frail thing, yet it was the only barrier 
between us and death, for there would be scant 
mercy shown us if those bars and bolts parted. 

We said very little; just a little ejaculation or 
two as we watched the yielding timbers of the door 
quail before the fierce attack on it by the brigands, 
and once or twice the thick bars seemed on the 
very point of being burst from their sockets; and 
if they did this, there would be a deadlier fight in 
that homely kitchen, than even I had taken part in 
yet. We fired several times through the lock hole, 
but I do not think with any result, and for some 
minutes there had been an ominous silence, broken 
only by the heavy blows on the door. Then with 
a loud report the topmost bar splintered from its 
socket, coming clattering to the ground, and the 
door bent open, allowing room for a dozen musket 
barrels to be thrust through. There was a volley 
which brought down the plaster ceiling in great 
pieces, and a yell of triumph from our foes. 

“We must retreat from this ! ” cried Signor Vico, 
moving hastily to where Lucia and her grand- 
mother were standing. “Who knows when the 
other bars may fall ! ” 


THE ATTACK ON THE FARM. 


243 


The smoke was so dense that I could only see 
about me with difficulty, but I knew that Martin 
had reached Lucia and was speaking to her. 
Signor Vico was saying something to his wife 
angrily, for the old woman had refused to ascend 
the ladder I think ; and then it seemed as if we 
had all gone up at once, for I found myself in the 
loft-like room and knew that Signor Vico had 
dropped the heavy trap which covered the ladder, 
and that we were for a time safe from danger. 

The room had a small window which projected a 
foot or further from the wall, and in the little 
recess thus made Signor Vico, Martin, and I took 
our places. The door of the house could be plain- 
ly seen from this point, and the moonbeams break- 
ing now and again through the flying masses of 
cloud, showed us a band of men who were attempt- 
ing to break into the dwelling; and when now and 
then a face came upturned, it seemed the face of a 
demon, ghastly and threatening. But we had no 
time to watch their movements, only time enough 
to take aim into the thick of the group, and as we 
fired, it scattered, leaving two of the enemy doubled 
up and still on the path. There was a little pause 
in the attack after this and one of the brigands — it 
was he who wore the bright scarlet cap, for I saw 
it clearly marked out in the moon-light — came 
toward us. Signor Vico watched him and then 
levelled his gun, but as though the fellow bore a 
charmed life, the bullet sped by him harmlessly. 


244 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“ Signor Tomaso Vico,” he cried in a high voice, 
“ I am willing to spare your life, if you admit me 
and my men.” 

Martin was on the point of firing when the 
fellow spoke, but Signor Vico struck up the piece. 

“ A moment, ” he whispered. “ Let me hear what 
the villain has to ask of me.” 

“And say that I admit you,” he continued, raising 
his voice. “How then, Signor Gambini?” 

“ You seem to know my name, ” laughed the 
other, “like the other good people in these parts. 
You will do well to obey me, farmer.” 

Martin had fired, and I saw the red cap go flying 
from Gambini’s head, and heard him give a hoarse 
laugh. He was out of gun shot nimbly enough, 
however, and then ordered a volley to be fired at 
our window, which was riddled the next moment, 
the glass flying in showers. Then as I crept back 
to it after the volley had been sent into us, I saw 
that the band of brigands were collecting heaps of 
underwood, with which some of them ran, placing 
it against the door, and that another of the miscreants 
had lighted a torch, ready to set the heap blazing. 
He was stooping to do this, his body black against 
the glare of the torch when I fired, and headlong 
into the heap went the man, his torch being ex- 
tinguished at the same instant. 

“ Bravo ! ” roared Martin who was at my shoulder. 
“ A good shot, Camilla, here comes another.” And 
I saw one of the band run forward, and fling the 


THE ATTACK ON THE FARM. 


245 


wounded man from the heap. There was another blaze 
of a torch, and this time Martin had sent it whirling, 
striking the man who held it on the arm, I think. 

The bullets were flying over us as we did this, 
but we lay stretched along so that the missiles did 
no harm, and for a few moments there was no other 
attempt to fire the heap; but at last the Gambini 
succeeded in doing so, hiding himself at the further 
end of it, and although we sent shot after shot at 
him, Lucia and Signor Vico loading our guns quickly, 
we could not hit him. There was a thin wisp of 
smoke and flame, the crackling of wood, and then we 
saw a great, ruddy blaze spring up, high as the lintel 
of the door, and a shout of triumph rang out. 

We could do nothing more in our defence by 
remaining at the window, and therefore descended 
to the kitchen to see the smoke and flame coming 
through the opening in the doorway and licking 
hungrily at the woodwork surrounding it. 

There was a little quantity of water remaining 
in a tub in the kitchen and with this we made 
fruitless efforts to extinguish the flames that threat- 
ened to be speedily a roaring furnace. Through 
the thick smoke we ran, dashing the water where 
the fire had gained its strongest hold, but alas, 
although we did this again and again, it was plain 
that our doom was sealed. And it was just as I 
had dashed my last pannikin of water, that a bullet 
fired through the gaping door, struck me in the leg, 
and with a cry of pain I fell. 


246 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


Martin was beside me in a moment, and lifting me 
in his strong arms, carried me to where Dame 
Ursulo, grim and fierce, leant against the table, 
watching the destruction of her house. Lucia was 
with her grandfather, and neither of them had noticed 
me fall I think. 

“ Are you much hurt ? ” cried Martin, his blackened 
face and anxious eyes close to mine. 

“ Leave him to me,” answered Dame Ursulo, 
beginning to unloosen the thick boot which pressed 
like lead on my wounded leg. “Yes — you have 
been struck above the ankle — nothing but what a 
few days will mend — but what matters — what mat- 
ters.” 

“ Time enough, ” I answered faintly. “ The house 
will be blazing shortly,” and then I can remember 
nothing more very distinctly, for Dame Ursulo who 
may have meant to be kind, but was the roughest 
nurse ever heard of, had begun at my wounded leg 
that was burning as though a fire brand rested on 
it. I remember seeing Martin and Lucia standing 
side by side, and that he was speaking to her, and 
how big and blurred the figure of Signor Vico 
seemed, far off from me in the smoke. I saw the 
tongues of fire licking at every piece of wood within 
reach, and then a strange kind of wonder stole 
over me as to how soon it would be before we 
were in the midst of those hungry flames, feeling 
quite indifferent to my fate, and then amid the 
crackling of burning timbers and the shouts of those 


THE ATTACK ON THE FARM. 


247 


who were compassing our destruction, came the 
sudden discharge of musketry outside, the shouts of 
triumph changed in a moment to cries of alarm and 
warning, and I can remember no more. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


WE START FOR AJACCIO. 

I WAS lying on a bedstead and at my side sat 
Martin. The sunlight streamed in through a 
broken window, and there was the smell of 
charred wood in the low-roofed room where I found 
myself. It was very still, and as a sharp twinge 
seized my leg I came back to my senses very 
quickly. 

“How did it all end, Martin?” I exclaimed. 
“This is farmer Vico’s house, is it not? Yes, this 
is the room up the ladder, and that is the window 
from which we shot down at the brigands. Where 
is the Red Gambini ? ” 

“That amiable gentleman has disappeared,” 
replied Martin, “ and taken what remained of his 
band with him. You were hit, just before help came 
to us — don’t you recollect? ” 

“But I cannot have slept through what followed 
the shooting I heard ? ” I answered. “ What hour 
is it? ” 

“ It is about ten o’clock, ” he replied, “ and you 
have slept ever since Madame Vico who is down in 

*48 


WE START FOR AJACCIO. 


249 


the kitchen at this moment, gave you a draught. 
She and I managed to bind your wound up — 
luckily for you it’s not a very bad one — no bones 
broken.” 

“Then let us be getting on to Ajaccio,” I cried, 
trying to raise myself, but falling back as I did 
this. 

“You might as well talk of getting on to Staf- 
fordshire,” said Martin. “You couldn’t walk three 
yards, Camilla. Therefore, as this letter has to be 
given to General Castineta I am going to carry it.” 

“ Tell me first how we were rescued,” I answered. 
“The kitchen was almost blazing when I fell.” 

“ Then it must be a short story, ” he replied, 
“ although one of the best ever told. For a com- 
pany on the march to join General Giafferi, noticing 
the light of the Red Gambini’s fire I suppose, came 
towards it. The brigands were surprised, and 
although they fought bravely, were very soon put 
to flight. Meanwhile the house was getting well on 
the road to destruction, but by the help of many 
hands the fire was extinguished. There’s a dreadful 
condition of things below, and for all that Madame 
Vico is glad to have her life safe, her anger against 
the brigands is beyond description. She has railed 
at Lucia until I was obliged to interfere, and then 
Madame’s wrath seemed to fix itself on me.” 

“I should like to hear all that has happened,” I 
said, after a little pause. “The fight was outside 
the house, Martin ? ” 


250 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“Not one of Gambini’s band set so much as a 

foot within,” he answered. “And Lucia ” 

“ Yes, what of Lucia ? ” I asked, for he had stopped 
abruptly, turning to crimson. 

“ Only that Lucia behaved like a heroine,” he 
answered. “ It was she who did most in extinguish- 
ing the flames, and of course to hear Madame ” 

“I wish you would not stop in your story,” I 
exclaimed. “ What of Signor Vico ? ” 

“Signor Vico is at this moment waiting to go 
with me part of the way to Ajaccio,” replied Mar- 
tin quickly, “and if this letter is ever to reach 
General Castineta I must start at once. I will return 
as speedily as possible.” 

He left me with this, and I lay thinking over 
what had happened, picturing the attack on the 
brigands and the flerceness of the fight that had fol- 
lowed. I was doing this, groaning sometimes with 
the smart of my wound, and partly because of my 
being forced to lie idle whilst stirring events were 
in progress, when Lucia came into the room, bring- 
ing me some food and wine. 

“ Your friend has gone, ” she began, and it was 
easy to understand her sorrow at the destruction 
which the visit of the brigands had caused, because 
Lucia spoke very mournfully. “ The letter was very 
important you said ? ” 

“It was of the greatest importance,” I replied, 
“ and now tell me of the fight between Gambini’s 
band and the others.” 


WE START FOR AJACCIO. 251 

Lucia shrugged her shoulders. “I heard the 
firing and shouting,” she said, “but there was too 
much to do ; the fire was spreading so quickly that 
I could think of nothing else than helping to put it 
out. It was Martin ” 

“ Yes! ” I cried. “What of Martin? You and he 
are alike, Lucia, for you both stop in your talk. 
What happened to him?” 

“ He fought very bravely, ” she answered, “ and 
when help came, was in the midst of the tumult 
so soon as he could open the door. I heard his 
voice highest of all.” 

Perhaps Lucia would have said more, but at this 
instant Dame Ursulo’s screaming summons came up 
to the room where I lay, and Lucia returned to 
the kitchen. And slowly the day went by; Signor 
Vico not returning home until late that afternoon, 
nor was it till then that I heard the full story of 
our rescue. It was only just in time too that help 
came, for the door would have been burst open 
very soon, but beyond the broken windows and 
charring of the woodwork not much harm had been 
done to the house. Nor had anyone been hurt 
beside myself, and I will say here that the wound kept 
me prisoner a full week. A week too, when the hand 
and heart of every true Corsican were required in the 
good cause, and at a time of Corsica’s greatest need 
I was prevented from moving from the farm house. 

It was late next day before Martin returned 
to us, faint and hungry with his journey, yet 


252 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


withal in better spirits than I had ever known 
him to be. But the news he brought, although 
he tried to make the best of it, was the worst 
we had heard since the outbreak of the revo- 
lution. General Castineta had passed northward to 
join General Giafiferi, and it was impossible for 
Martin to deliver the letter. This he had tried to 
do, however, following General Castineta’s march 
until meeting some stragglers from the army, Mar- 
tin learnt the evil news which he had brought back 
to me. It was nothing less than the account of how 
General Giafferi’s army had been surprised into a battle 
with the Genoese, and defeated so signally that the 
leaders of the insurrection had lost heart wellnigh. 
For not only had General Giafferi’s army suffered 
defeat, but in other parts of the island the Genoese 
had gained various advantages, and the brief hopes 
aroused by the generosity of our English friends 
had been replaced by a dull, helpless despair again. 
The gifts we had received had been used long ago, 
hunger was rife once more, and although the Genoese 
had not yet ventured upon further offensive action 
against the Corsicans, we were in no condition 
to continue a war against them. These last facts 
we heard later on from two ragged, hungry soldiers 
who had begged for shelter at the farm, and their 
stories added to those already known, made it only 
too evident that unless assistance came to the Cor- 
sicans very speedily, our condition was Hkely to be 
worse than it had ever been. 


WE START FOR AJACCIO. 


253 


By the end of a week I was able to get lamely 
down the ladder, and although much of the damage 
done to the house had been made good, sufficient 
was left to show the fierceness of the attack. The 
riddled window, the great black patches of burnt 
woodwork, the discoloured ceiling and ill-mended 
door were enough to show what our danger had 
been. Signor Vico helped me outside to a bench, 
where sitting down together he told me the full 
story of our rescue. 

“ He is brave, the Englishman who is your com- 
rade, ” said he, “ and has given Gambini something 
to remember him by. It was a combat between 
them, for Gambini was running away when his 
band had been defeated, and seeing the brigand’s 
intention Signor Martin pursued him to the point 
yonder,” and Signor Vico held out his hand in the 
direction of a little hillock a dozen yards from the 
house. 

** It was hand to hand then, ” he continued, his 
eyes lighting up with the recollection brought by 
the story. “ Sword to sword, and once your friend 
slipped on the wet grass, the blaze of the fire showed 
his danger and another moment and the Gambini 
would have run him through, had not a shot fired 
from the house disabled his swordarm, and then 
your friend had regained his footing. It was that 
shot which preserved Signor Martin’s life.” 

“Who fired it?” I asked, and I saw a curious 
look spread over the farmers face. 


254 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“Who indeed but Lucia,” he answered. “She 
can hit a bird flying, and the Gambini was full in 
the light of my blazing house. Signor Martin cut him 
across the face, and the fellow disappeared, having 
full half of his band either dead or wounded. ” 

He was silent after this for a few moments, as 
if pondering over some weighty matter. 

“ And now that your mission to General Castineta 
has been finished,” he asked, “what will you and 
your friend do? You have spoken of rejoining your 
regiment ? ” 

“ So soon as I can walk, ” I answered. 

“ You have heard of the disasters that have be- 
fallen our army?” he continued, “but perhaps you 
may not know that it has been disbanded, for without 
provisions it was impossible to keep the men together. 
There is no regiment for you to return to. I heard 
this from a good source, and also that Signor Paoli 
and the other leaders have held a council that may 
lead to every Corsican laying down his arms.” 

As he spoke thus Martin came out of the house 
and joined us. There was a merry look on his face, 
that formed a striking contrast to Signor Vico’s 
long visage. 

“We are speaking of what is best for us to do, 
Martin,” I said. “There is nothing to be gained 
by going to Corte.” 

“But a great deal may be done by going to 
Ajaccio,” he responded, “and it is to do that which 
has been in my mind this week past. At first I 


WE START FOR AJACCIO. 


255 


thought of getting a berth aboard some ship, but 
I begin to think that impossible. Yet I intend going 
to Ajaccio.” 

“It will be a dangerous task,” said the farmer. 
“Even if you are not arrested immediately by the 
authorities, there will be always the risk of being 
denounced as a rebel.” 

“ One must run into danger sometimes, ” laughed 
Martin, “ and you yourself are about to leave your 
house to live near to Ajaccio.” 

“ Lucia has been chattering I see, ” replied Signor 
Vico. “ Yes, that is quite true. I dare not stay in 
this lonely spot with only Lucia and my wife. They 
will be safer if near a town, and I am rich enough 
to live without further work. We leave the farm 
in a few weeks.” 

The mention of Ajaccio brought back to me the 
memory of the wrongs I had suffered at my cousin s 
hands, and the prospect of again seeing Nasone and 
learning some further information regarding my affairs, 
made me agree with Martin’s proposal eagerly. 
Maybe Nasone would be willing to help us with 
some money, for neither Martin nor I had a soldo 
between us; and at any rate I was assured that he 
would give us food and lodging until we were able 
to earn the means of living. From Ajaccio, too, 
Martin might be able to send a letter to England, and 
a dozen wild hopes crowded into my mind, making 
me forget the danger of venturing into the town for a 
moment, and the ill success of my fellow-countrymen. 


256 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“Let me but get the full use of my leg again,” 
I exclaimed, “and we will start at once, Martin.” 

“There is no particular need for hurrying,” he 
answered, “unless Signor Vico is tired of our 
company.” 

“ Nay, that I shall never be,” replied the farmer, “ and 
you are welcome to stay here until Camilla is quite 
recovered. I shall not remove for a month perhaps. ” 

So it was settled thus, that as soon as my wound 
was healed Martin and I should make the endeavour 
to gain entrance to Ajaccio, and this would be the 
less difficult to succeed in, seeing that the Corsican 
force which had been investing the town had been 
withdrawn to Corte. Only Calvi and Bastia were 
still being besieged, and that in a hopeless, cold- 
hearted fashion by a few of the troops of insurgents 
yet under arms, the inhabitants in other parts of 
the island sinking into a state of suffering and 
poverty, which were daily becoming worse. All our 
means had been exhausted, and the expectation o 
foreign aid, so long hoped for, and freely spoken 
about, had gradually died away. 

It occurred to me as a strange thing that Martin 
spoke but rarely of his intention of escaping to 
England. At the beginning of our acquaintance 
this had been the one topic ever on his tongue, and 
how I was to accompany him, but since the night 
of our adventure with the “ Red Gambini ” and his 
band of brigands, scarcely a word had Martin 
spoken of his leaving the island. When I referred 


WE START FOR AJACCIO. 


257 


to his doing so, and suggested means by which it 
could be done, he would turn the conversation aside 
lightly, and although we might possibly get a ship 
at Ajaccio, something told me that this was not the 
reason for his going there. 

It was a week later before I was able to walk 
again without pain, and then the day came for bid- 
ding Signor Vico and his wife good-bye. Lucia went 
with Martin and myself for a little part of the way, 
and when she left us to return home, all Martin’s 
gaiety and talkativeness seemed to go back with 
her. For he spoke not a word until we were a 
good two miles on our journey, and then he broke 
out into a wild kind of speech, to which I gave 
little attention, having my own thoughts to occupy 
me. I was thinking of what might be lying before 
me; and yet, although I conjured up a thousand 
strange surmises, neither of them were half so 
strange as the events that happened after our 
leaving the farm, which I will now proceed to 
describe. 


17 


/ 


CHAPTER XXVIL 


THE TAX-GATHERER. 

T he scene became familiar to me very shortly 
after Lucia’s leaving us, and upon descending 
to where the road to Ajaccio could be seen wind- 
ing in and out amongst the trees below, a well- 
known object caught my sight. It was my old 
home, Fabiani Brasco’s solitary house, perched high 
in the mountains, a mile off from us, with its sombre 
surrounding of cypress trees and neglected olive 
grounds. Gaunt and grey it stood, no sign of life 
being visible, and the thought came to me that it 
was deserted, as I pointed it out to Martin. 

“ Yonder is Fabiani’s house,” I said, rousing my 
companion at last from his day-dreams. “ Where I 
lived long ago. At least it seems long ago since 
I left it.” 

“ Is your cousin there ? ” he answered, looking 
keenly at the old house. * What a dull place to 
pass one’s life in ! ” 

“ Fabiani and Teodor are still in Bastia, I am 
disposed to think, and our old servant Paulina 
would hardly remain in the house alone. Yes, it is 
258 


THE TAX-GATHERER. 


259 


deserted, Martin, and likely to be I should say. I 
for one will never go back to live in it.” 

“I shall remember that house,” went on Martin. 
“It has such a desolate, haunted look. A place 
where one might be murdered and buried, so that 
nobody would ever guess what had become of you. 
But it is off our road, Camilla; we turn here to gain 
the way to Ajaccio.” 

A clump of trees hid the house from our sight 
and we found ourselves going deeper and deeper 
through a vineyard that had once been carefully 
tended, but was now wild and neglected. There 
were many such tokens of the condition into which 
the land had fallen, and we were glad when the 
road was come to which would lead us direct to 
Ajaccio. It was the one I had traversed with Gas- 
pero and his two companions not very long ago, 
and Martin and I had joined it from a part quite 
unknown to me. 

“We must have wandered a long distance from 
our proper road during the storm,” I said, as we 
went along through the dust and silence. “ What a 
fortunate thing we found Signor Vico’s house ! ” 

“ It was the luckiest thing that ever happened to 
me at any rate, ” replied Martin, “ and a lucky thing 
that I got left behind from the ship.” 

“That reminds me,” I answered, “that you will 
be able to get on board another one at Ajaccio. 
Nasone will do all that he can to help you, and 
there may be a trader going to Italy perhaps.” 


26 o 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“ It can go where it chooses for all I care, ” replied 
Martin. “I am not going to leave Corsica yet, so 
talk no more about that, Camilla. There is too much 
for me to do here, to think of leaving. It will be 
more to the purpose if we decide how we are to 
get into Ajaccio. There is nothing more to be done 
that I can see, but to trust to the chance of being 
allowed to pass through the gate there.” 

“We shall be stopped and questioned without 
doubt,” I answered, “and likely enough taken before 
the commandant.” 

“ Then trust me to give a good account of our- 
selves,” laughed Martin, “ and as it is never any 
use to meet trouble half way, let us talk about 
something more pleasant than arrests and question- 
ings.” 

With this Martin began telling me one of his 
merriest stories about his sea-going life with the 
Scotch Captain, and presently we reached the cottage 
where Gaspero had saved the woman from the 
clutches of the Genoese tax-gatherer. We stopped 
here to buy a cup of milk— Signor Vico had lent 
us a small sum a-piece — but the cottager would 
take nothing from us, when his wife recognised me 
as one of those by whom she had been rescued 
from Signor Rota. 

“And if ever the time comes for me to repay 
that good service, ” exclaimed her husband, “ you 
may reckon on me. You are going into Ajaccio, 
you say?” 


THE TAX-GATHERER. 


261 


“If we can get into the town,” replied Martin. 

“You can do that easily enough,” was the man’s 
answer, “ but beware of Signor Rota, who will 
recognise your companion, as my wife has done. 
The tax-gatherer has a good memory of faces, they 
say. It happens that I have to go to Ajaccio this 
afternoon with my milk barrels, and so, as I said 
before, it will be easy for you to pass the sentries. 
I am known to them and my business is known 
too, therefore you and your friend shall be my 
servants for the time, and with a yoke over your 
shoulder pass as simple milkmen.” 

The ease and safety of the plan left no doubt of 
its success, and very soon Martin and I were helping 
the cottager to push a heavy barrow, on which 
were a barrel of milk and a pair of yokes. At a 
short distance from Ajaccio we placed these latter 
on our shoulders, hanging some clinking tins to the 
yoke ropes, and with the cottager driving between 
us, we went past the sentries at the entrance gate 
of the town, Martin giving a yell, such as never a 
milkman uttered yet, and even stopping to ask one 
of the scowling soldiers to buy a measure of milk. 
Then over the rough stones we went, clanking the 
cans, until coming to a quiet by-street we bade our 
friendly guide good-bye, and divesting ourselves of 
the yokes that galled my shoulders painfully, Martin 
and I made our way to the house of Emanuel Matra. 

“I shall address him thus,” said Martin, “or he 
may take offence at being called Nasone.” 


262 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“It is the name by which he is known to every- 
one in Ajaccio,” I answered, “and here we are at 
his house, Martin. The Saints forbid that he is not 
at home.” 

Hitherto I had visited Nasone by night, and it was 
somewhat of a surprise to see him in his silver- 
smith’s shop, busy at work at a little bench behind 
the barred window. It was so gloomy an interior, 
and the dust on the glass lay so thick that he was 
obliged to use the light of a lamp to work by, and 
with a long tasselled night-cap drawn down, nearly 
covering his ears, Nasone made a grotesque figure, 
as unconscious of our watching him, he worked 
away at a piece of old-fashioned silver plate. We 
looked at him for a few moments and then I rang 
the hanging bell, whereupon Nasone came hastily 
to answer the summons, giving a husky cry of 
pleasure at seeing me, and a few words were suffi- 
cient for him to understand the reason for my 
bringing Martin with me. 

“Come in — come in!” exclaimed the silversmith; 
“although for what reason you have ventured to 
this lion’s den of a town I know not. There is a 
most watchful guard kept upon even those Ox us 
who are well known, and it is short work always 
with a stranger. However, you have got to my 
house safely, and here you will be secure from dis- 
covery. ” 

We were in a room adjoining the shop now, that 
overlooked a grass grown patch of ground behind 


THE TAX-GATHERER. 


263 


the house, and here, when Nasone had brought us 
some food, he heard our story. 

“There have been rumours of the defeats the 
Corsican army has met with,” said he when I had 
exhausted my news, “and from the time you left 
me, not a word have I heard of Cesario. Likely 
enough he is dead, and if indeed that is the case 
he is more fortunate than many of his countrymen, 
for our taxes have been increased, our oppressors 
are more insolent, and our lives less worth living 
than ever they were yet.” 

“Have you heard anything of my cousin? * I 
asked, “or Teodor?” 

“Of neither — except this: they have proved them- 
selves traitors to their country, and that an office 
has been found for Teodor in Bastia, ” replied Nasone. 
“I will wager the silver plate which I am finishing 
for the governor of Ajaccio at this moment, that 
Signor Poli is with Fabiani Brasco. And talking 
of the same governor reminds me that his plate — 
Holy Saint Argentini grant I may be paid for it, 
though I have my doubts — his plate, I say, has 
to be taken home this evening. Rota the tax- 
gatherer who goes with messages and runs errands 
like a lackey for this Genoese governor of Ajaccio, 
wa.s here this morning with his vile abuse of me for my 
negligence, as the rascal called it, in not having 
the work done, and will be here again with more 
of his insulting epithets, or I am ready to give him 
the plate finished.” 


264 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“Signor Rota!” I repeated. “He is the last man 
for QS to meet with here. He will recognise me,” 
and with this I told Nasone the story of Gaspero 
and the tax-gatherer. 

“He is a grasping, cowardly wretch!” cried 
Nasone, “with whom I would have no dealings if 
I could help myself. But he comes from the govern- 
or, and although Rota’s ways and words are 
enough to provoke the pope himself, I have to put 
up with them. It is “Nasone this” and “Nasone 
that,” although such is not my true name, and not 
to be used by a fellow like this tax-gathering pet- 
tifogger; still I must submit,” 

“I should very much like to see this Signor Rota,” 
exclaimed Martin. 

“It would bring us into the peril of our lives if 
he saw me,” I answered. 

“Nay, but you shall see him,” said Nasone 
excitedly, “and therefore when he knocks at the 
door presently, which he will do as though he were 
nothing less than the governor himself,* instead of 
his servant, you and Camilla shall go to the room 
above. There by the window you can peep down 
into the shop, and whilst you are safe from being 
discovered you can hear and see everything that 
passes below. And now I must get back to work, 
for this plate has to be ready before long, or Rota 
will rave at me as if I were no better than one of 
the slaves toiling at an oar, out yonder,” and giving 
a flourish of his long arm in the direction of the 


THE TAX-GATHERER. 265 

harbour, where were the slave galleys, Kasone 
returned to his shop. 

Martin and I remained in the room into which 
we had first entered, until we were aroused by a 
thundering knock at the house door. 

“Signor Rota,” cried Martin, getting up with a 
laugh, and then waiting until Nasone had taken his 
visitor into the shop, we crept softly upstairs to the 
place the silversmith had directed us to, it being a 
little, low-ceilinged loft, separated from the shop 
by a flooring of thin wood, the tall window lighting 
both that and the loft. 

Signor Rota was speaking in a loud, commanding 
tone, as Martin and I knelt, with our noses close 
to the floor, listening, and I could see and hear the 
fiery-faced tax-gatherer hectoring Nasone finely. 

“You are an hour late in finishing your work,” 
he stormed, “ and His Excellency is not to be kept 
waiting. Do you hear that?” 

“ Bawl a little louder and they will hear you at 
Genoa,” answered Nasone. “Do you think me to 
be deaf?” 

“I think you to be insolent!” cried Signor Rota, 
“ and that to me, is being insolent to His Excellency 
through me. I shall not fail to repeat your words 
to him.” 

“ Then I advise you to do so in a softer tone 
than your present one,” retorted Nasone, “or may 
be your master will flog you for brawling in his 
house.” 


266 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“ Worse and worse ! ” screamed the other, and I 
could feel the board under me shaking with Mar- 
tin’s laughter. “I would have you understand that 
I own no one my master. His Excellency is my 
very good friend and I am here to oblige him. 
Give me the plate as it is, for I cannot wait any 
longer for it.” 

The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when 
I felt the board bending on which I knelt, there 
was a sudden crack, a wild grasping of my hands 
to save myself, and then down through the flooring, 
went Martin first, full on to the head of Signor 
Rota, and as they rolled over together in a cloud 
of dust I came down on them. I recollect seeing 
Nasone staring at me as I fell, but what followed, 
that I cannot say. I only know that I was scram- 
bling upstairs the next instant, hearing the tax-gatherer 
shout after me in a way that shewed that I had 
been recognised. Then Martin was at my side, 
laughing so that he could not utter a word of sense, 
and after him came Nasone, his long face dust- 
covered, and he too was so full of laughter as not 
to be able to speak. 

“ Signor Rota has gone without His Excellency’s 
plate after all,” cried Martin when he had had his 
laugh out, “and he vows I am an evil spirit.” 

“ It is not much of a laughing matter,” I answered. 
“ Signor Rota recognised me and you will have 
your house ransacked before long, Nasone. What 
is best to be done?” 


THE TAX-GATHERER. 


267 


“That is certain to follow,” said Nasone, wiping 
his eyes, “ and for all that you are welcome to stay 
with me as long as you please, you will be safer 
elsewhere. Yet there is no hurry, we can decide 
by and by whither you shall go, and moreover I 
must have a talk with you, Camilla.” 

His easy way of speaking allayed my fears that 
Signor Rota would molest us, and Nasone, vowing 
that His Excellency’s plate might go unfinished, 
closed his shop for the day. He said nothing of 
the damage we had done his floor, his only regret 
being that the tax-gatherer had escaped without 
a worse hurt than having his smart coat rent and 
dusted. We sat late into the night and arranged 
that the best thing to do was for Martin and 
myself to rejoin the troops at Corte, where at least 
some news would be heard of Cesario and our other 
friends. 

“ But I have a particular desire for returning to 
Ajaccio presently,” argued Martin, “and if it had 
not been for that accident of falling upon Signor 
Rota, nothing should drive me out of the town now 
I am safely in it. But I see your danger, Camilla, and 
as we came into the town together so will we leave.” 

This being agreed upon, and the object I had 
had in seeing Nasone obtained, although the news 
he told me concerning my affairs was very unsatis- 
factory, Martin and I helped him drag some bedding 
from the inexhaustible closet, that was fuller of things 
than ever, and Nasone bade us good night. 


268 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“To-morrow,” said he, “we will arrange for your 
getting out of Ajaccio.” And Martin was in the 
act of thanking him for his kindness when suddenly 
the still night was disturbed by the violent ringing 
of the house bell. Nasone ran to the window, 
opening it sufficiently wide enough to allow him to 
see below, and after a moment’s scrutiny came back 
to us, on the tips of his slippered feet. 

“ The Saints protect us ! ” he exclaimed, “ for never 
yet was I so troubled by a customer. Rota the 
tax-gatherer is below, strutting before the house.” 

“ Then he has come for something more than His 
Excellency’s plate,” laughed Martin. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


UNLOOKED-FOR AID. 

T he ring was repeated, and then a loud knock 
was given on the house door. 

“ I must descend and speak to the fellow, ” 
said Nasone, “ meantime you must remain quiet 
here. If he hear you, there is no saying but what 
he will bring an armed force and search the house, ” 
and with this he went downstairs, we going close 
to the window, hearing him unbolt the door, and 
then Signor Rota’s voice. 

“The two men who were with you this day!” 
exclaimed Rota. “I must see them at once.” 

“Do you suppose they are here,” answered 
Nasone. “Would they dare stay, think you, after 
what happened?” 

“Then where have they gone?” demanded the 
other, “ because His Excellency has heard the whole 
story, and said he, ‘these men have no lawful busi- 
ness in Ajaccio,’ and in that I agreed with His 
Excellency.” 

“You would agree with anybody,” replied Nasone, 
“and if you wish to take vengeance on the poor 

260 


270 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


men, begin at once to seek for them. Try the 
road leading to Monte Rotondo, or the waste land 
of Malava, or the waters in the harbour, but wher- 
ever you seek, begin to do so at once, for I am 
about to go to bed, and to talk with you, Signor Rota, 
at this hour of darkness, does not please me.” 

“ They have fled, you say ? ” answered Rota. 
“ They have been terrified by thinking of my wrath.” 

“ Who would not be terrified, ” replied Nasone. 
“You are enough to daunt the courage of the 
bravest.” 

“ And maybe they are escaping to the mountains ? ” 

“I tell you to seek them on the road thither, 
and I can say no more. The night air blows 
shrewdly, and therefore I will close my door,” and 
we above heard him do so, followed by the retreat- 
ing footsteps of Signor Rota. 

Nasone gave a sour look at us when he came 
back to the room. 

“ You must remain hidden here until the chance 
offers itself of escaping. That fellow is set on your 
being apprehended, and therefore it will be only wise 
to alter your plans. Wait here a day or two.” 

This we agreed to do, and to shorten my story 
at this point I may say that it was a week before 
we ventured out of the house. I think Rota was not so 
important a person as he wished to appear, yet Nasone 
told us that strangers in Ajaccio were eyed with sus- 
picion and likely to be arrested, but at last he con- 
sented to our making the attempt to leave the town 


UNLOOKED-FOR AID. 


271 


“Let us put a bold front on it,’* said Martin as 
we sat one morning, impatient at the restraint which 
had been placed on our movements, “and by that 
I mean walking out of the town through the gates, 
as people might do in an ordinary way.” 

“We shall be stopped and questioned,” I answered, 
“which means that we shall be prevented from 
escaping. ” 

“But it is useless, our waiting here,” he retorted, 
“and if you have no business to attend to, I have, 
Camilla. ” 

He spoke so seriously for him, for Martin was 
too light-hearted to do that ordinarily, that I glanced 
at him in surprise. 

“What business can you have to attend to?” I 
asked, but he made no reply, turning to Nasone 
who was looking out of the window at that moment. 

“Am I not right. Signor Matra?” he exclaimed. 
“Will it not be the best plan to walk straight out 
of the town?” 

“If that miscreant Rota does not observe your 
going,” replied Nasone. “He has a good memory 
for faces, and owes both you and Camilla a grudge. 
Moreover Rota and those like him have the upper 
hand of their fellow-countrymen now and will be 
harder than ever they were before, seeing that this 
unfortunate revolt has failed. I have had news 
brought me that the condition of the country is 
worse now than it has ever been, and as helpless 
and hopeless as can be. The leaders of the people 


272 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

can do no more, their resources are exhausted, and 
before long the oppressors will begin their revenge 
upon us. There will be hangings and shootings, 
the sending of brave men to the slave galleys, and 
worse than that, the putting of fresh taxes upon us. ” 

“But in the mean time we must get back to our 
friends,” I answered, thinking of Cesario, Serafino, and 
the others, whom I had not seen for so long. 

“Then there is only one way to do that,” cried 
Martin, “and that is the method I proposed. We 
will walk straight to the gate, give ‘Good-bye’ 
civilly to the sentry, and be out amongst the moun- 
tains before he has time to regret he did not stop 
us with his demand to know our business.” 

“I have been considering whether you might not 
escape by the sea,” said Nasone, “yet it is impos- 
sible. The harbour is closed, watched, and guarded, 
there is no chance that a boat would be allowed to 
go without being examined, for even the coral fishers 
are searched, as though the poor fellows were very 
thieves, and therefore it is not to be thought of.” 

“Nor is staying here longer,” replied Martin, “so 
get ready, Camilla, and we will start at once.” 

He was so eager to be gone, that I saw it would 
be of no avail to persuade him to delay. I also 
was anxious to gain some tidings of my old com- 
panions, whilst to remain in Ajaccio was almost as 
hazardous to our freedom, as the attempt to leave 
the town would be, and so when we had finished 
the meal which Nasone had prepared for us, and I 


UNLOOKED-FOR AID. 


273 


had received a packet from him that was to be 
given to Cesario, if “Fortune granted I should ever 
see him again,” as Nasone said, Martin and I went 
down the gloomy staircase, and for an instant or 
two paused at the bolted door. Then Nasone opened 
it, and out into the brilliant sunshine passed Martin 
and I, hearing the door shut gently, whilst without 
a look except straight before us we walked in the 
direction of the fortifications. 

The warm air and gentle breeze came refresh- 
ingly after our long stay in Nasone’s house, and 
Martin’s spirits seemed to have returned suddenly, 
making him reckless of being observed and more 
eager than ever to quit the liown. But with all 
that, he must needs stop to buy some fruit from an 
old woman who sat beneath the shelter of a blue 
umbrella at the corner of a street, even asking her 
some questions regarding the very man from whom 
danger to us was to be expected. 

“ And so Signor Rota has taxed your fruit barrow, ” 
laughed Martin as he began eating the fruit he had 
purchased. 

“ They will be taxing us presently for breathing 
the air,” cried the old woman, whose face was more 
wrinkled than the skin of a late orange, “ and never 
will they find one better to wring money from 
people than Rota, the stony-hearted. Yet there 
are times when even he meets his equal, for the 
story goes that he was thrown, like the rank weed 
he is, from out the cottage of Napolino the cowherd— 

18 


274 


KlING FOR A SUMMER, 


who lives on the road leading to Corte, and that 
Rota came back to Ajaccio with a torn coat and 
bruised moreover from head to foot. I heard the 
story from one who saw the thing done, and never 
before was I pleased' to see the tax-gatherer. I 
laughed in his face next time he came tor the 
tax from me, and asked him to tell me the story 
himself. Holy Saint Antonio never showed more 
pain on his griddle, than did Rota, when I asked 
this, and said he, ‘Those who have defied the law, 
which was defied and insulted when the brigands 
intercepted my lawful acts and deeds, shall suffer 
for it yet’ Ah I but I remember Rota’s evil eye 
glancing round as^he said that, and he will be as 
good as his promise.” 

Martin looked at me, and I plucked him by the 
sleeve to hasten him. The old woman had become 
fierce and talkative, and would have spoken until 
nightfall I think; whilst my companion showed no 
haste to be gone. 

“ So Signor Rota will have his revenge, you say?” 
answered Martin. 

“ Revenge indeed ! ” exclaimed the old woman 
shrilly. “ He will have the blood of those who have 
offended him. It is an easy affair to get an enemy 
shot or hanged just now. One has but to call him 

a rebel and ” here she put her hand around her 

scraggy throat, giving a gurgle as she did this. 

“ Come, Martin, ” I cried, having no liking for her 
chatter. “We shall be late unless you hasten I ” 


UNLOOKED-FOR AID. 


275 


“ So Rota will do this ? ” and Martin repeated the 
old woman’s gesture. “ Well, then, it will be wise 
if his enemy gets beyond his clutches.” 

“Nobody ever did that yet,” giggled the woman, 
“and nobody ever will. Rota will have them, 
mark me.” 

“I rather doubt that,* replied Martin, and with 
this we hurried from the fruit-seller, going in the 
direction of the gate. 

We had reached to within a short distance of 
this when I suddenly stopped, for standing at the 
guard house were some soldiers, who drew into line 
as an officer came out. There were twenty or more 
of them drawn up before the closed gates, and for 
us to have attempted to pass them would have been 
madness. 

“ This way, Martin ! ” I exclaimed under my 
breath. “We must wait until the soldiers have 
gone. This is a quiet street enough— nobody will 
molest us.” 

“Not so fast, Camilla,” replied Martin excitedly, 
“ for here comes an old friend of ours, whom I saw 
last in a cloud of dust, after falling through 
Nasone’s ceiling upon the good gentleman, ” and as 
my companion spoke I saw coming toward me, 
with his jaunty step and smirking face, the tax- 
gatherer Rota. I think he saw us also at the same 
moment, for he quickened his pace into a trot, 
nodding his head and smacking his lips when within 
a dozen paces of us. 


276 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“Run, Martin! ” 1 cried, and we slipped through 
a narrow opening between the houses. “Maybe 
we shall escape him yet.” 

“I am not going to run from a tax-gatherer,” 
laughed Martin. “ Nay, more than that, I have 
a particular reason for speaking with him, only 
the quieter the place for our conversation the 
better. ” 

“It is certain arrest,”' I exclaimed, for Martin’s 
way of speaking made me think him to have lost 
his reason. “ Here he comes. ” 

“ Ambling like a well-fed hackney,” replied Martin, 
moving slowly forward. “ He will be alongside us 
in a few moments and throw his grappling-irons 
aboard. What a sweet movement he has!” and 
then I heard Signor Rota cry to us to stop, in a 
shriller voice than the old fruit-seller’s. Martin turned 
round in an instant, and very red in the face and 
panting heavily, so that his speech came in jerks, 
the tax-gatherer stood before us, brandishing his 
walking cane. 

“ At last, ” cried he, “ I have succeeded in discov- 
ering you, and there shall be no running away 
this time I promise you. Yes — there is no mistake — 
you are the villain who assisted in the attack upon 
the law — which shall make you pay smartly for the 
same. You, I mean,” and he stretched out his hand 
to grasp me. 

“Gently, good sir,” exclaimed Martin, interposing 
himself between us. “You are over eager, and 


UNLOOKED-FOR AID. 


277 


berore you make us your prisoners, let me have a 
word with you.” 

“Not a single word,” cried Rota, “I have no 
time nor liking for talking to such as you, so come 
with me.” 

Martin during this little conversation had been 
walking onward. Signor Rota following him, and 
at last we all three had reached a spot that was so 
quiet that our voices seemed to sound quite loudly. 
On one side of the path lay a high wall, and on 
the other the ground sloped downward in the di- 
rection of the fortified entrance gate to Ajaccio. 
There was not anyone to interrupt us, nor to lend 
help to deliver us from our dangerous strait, and 
my heart sank within me, on thinking that Martin 
and I would certainly be in prison presently, instead 
of breathing the mountain air and rejoining our 
friends. 

“Not a word more will I speak, ” exclaimed Signor 
Rota, “ nor take one more step out of my way. I 
have you both in my grasp now, and His Excel- 
lency shall have you before him ere many hours 
are gone.” 

“But we are leaving Ajaccio,” answered Martin, 
and I saw a merry twinkle come into his eyes. 
“We were on the point of going out of the town 
when we met you.” 

“Oh indeed,” cried the other, “ then it was a lucky 
thing I encountered you.” 

“Never anything happened more fortunately,” 


278 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


answered Martin. “For without your aid, worthy 
Signor Rota, we could never have passed the sentry 
in safety.” 

“ My aid ! ” shouted the tax-gatherer. “ Oh, that 
is very good — very good — my aid indeed to your 
escape! say rather my aid in getting you both 
hanged.” 

But before he could well finish the sentence he 
had given a squeak of pain, for Martin had seized 
him by the arm, and there flashed a dagger before 
Signor Rota’s eyes. 

“You will be obliged to listen,” cried Martin, as 
he called to me. “ Take his other arm, Camilla, for 
we must bring this good gentleman to reason, by 
fair means or foul.” 

“Let go your hold!” screamed Rota. “Beware 
of touching me. I am the law, and not to be handled 
like an ordinary man.” 

“ I do not intend to handle you like an ordinary 
man would be dealt with,” answered Martin, a change 
coming into his face, so that it looked as it did 
when he fought the ruffianly soldier, “ but I am 
going to run this dagger into your heart.” 

I felt the tax-gatherer suddenly become quite limp 
and helpless as I held him, and his eyes had a wild 
terror in them. 

“You dare not murder me,” he gasped, shrinking 
from Martin’s dagger. “ I’m an officer of the law 
and His Excel ” 

“ His Excellency will never know who killed you,” 


UNLOOKED-FOR AID. 


279 

replied Martin calmly. “You have too many enemies 
for that. So make ready — I’ll give you three minutes 
longer to live.” 

At this Signor Rota slipped down until he was 
almost on his knees, so that we had to hold him up. 

“ Mercy ! ” he cried in a tone of horror. “ Good 
gentlemen, I pray you to do me no harm. Help ! ” 
and he gave a shriek which I stopped by placing 
my hand over his mouth. 

“ Humph, ” said Martin, frowning down at our 
victim. “ You ask for something you know very 
little about, by all accounts. Yet I am willing to 
grant it. But you must do exactly what I tell you. ” 

“ I will do anything, ” moaned Rota, “ so that you 
take the horrible weapon from before my eyes.” 

“ Then you will go with us to the gate,” replied 
Martin. “ And if we are questioned, say that we 
are friends of yours. We are bent on getting out 
of Ajaccio, and if we do so in safety I promise to 
spare your life. If we are molested I promise also 
that you shall die that very instant. Do you agree 
to this?” 

“ I will agree to everything, except being slaugh- 
tered like a lamb,” exclaimed the tax-gatherer, 
straightening himself. “ Come with me now, and 
let us get from the lonely spot, which has the very 
air of death itself. Come.” 

So with this Martin slipped Signor Rota’s arm 
through his own, and I took the other, we going 
back to the street leading to the entrance gate. 


28 o 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


Once our unwilling companion resisted us, but Mar- 
tin’s dagger was held so closely to Signor Rota’s 
back, that I suppose the point of the weapon 
pricked him, for he uttered a curious cry of pain 
and alarm as he stepped out briskly again. 

“We will have a clear understanding, ” said Mar- 
tin, as we came in view of the soldiers who were 
still drawn up in line. “ My mind misgives me that 
you may betray us, good honest Signor Rota, there- 
fore remember when you speak to the officer, whom 
you are well acquainted with doubtless, that I am 
listening, and that the first word you say which 
would raise suspicions of us, will be the last you 
will ever speak. I shall hold my dagger at your 
back, under your cloak, and I give you fair warn- 
ing. Say but a word that may endanger us, and I 
will kill you!” 

Then we marched on once more. Signor Rota 
so swayed between rage and fear as to be quite 
dumb, and in this fashion did we reach the gate. 

“ You will tell the officer we are friends of yours, and 
are going upon a visit together, ” whispered Martin. 

“ And that I am the dearest friend you have 
amongst all your acquaintances,” I added, giving 
him a grip that made him wince. 

“Now begin,” whispered Martin hoarsely again, 
for we had come at last at the gate, and the tall 
officer was casting a threatening look at us. His 
face cleared, however, when he recognised wSignor 
Rota, whom he addressed. 


UNLOOKED-FOR AID. 


281 


“One rarely sees you in this part of Ajaccio,” 
he began, looking from our companion to us, “ and 

these gentlemen with you are ” but here he 

stopped as if something had come across his mind, 
and I saw Martin’s hand slip under Rota’s cloak, 
the hilt of the dagger making a comical little hump 
in it. 

“Two of my dearest friends,” replied the tax- 

gatherer, “ but truth to tell, Capitano, they ” and 

at this point he ceased speaking abruptly, also giving 
utterance to a kind of smothered “ Oh ! ” and a gasp. 

“We are about to pay a visit together, CapitanOy'^ 
he exclaimed, bending like a bow to escape the 
dagger point at his back, “ and the Saints forbid 
that you keep us waiting at the gate, seeing that 
this is truly a matter of life or death.” 

“You are about to visit someone who is ill, maybe,” 
answered the officer, giving the order to open the 
small gate. “ So fare you well. Signor Rota, ” and 
I was rejoicing that we were free at last, when the 
speaker stepped before us. 

“These are strangers in Ajaccio, I perceive,” he 
said, staring at Martin and myself, “yet I think I 
have seen this fellow before,” and he touched me. 
“At Aleria, unless I am mistaken.” 

One word, one gesture of alarm or confusion, 
and we should have been undone; but I saw the 
hump come again beneath Signor Rota’s cloak, as 
he sprang nimbly back to me. 

“They are new-comers to Ajaccio, Capitano” 


282 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


he screamed, “who are engaged with me in the 
collection of the taxes. This one is called Augustini 
Pietro Navarino, and this one (he twisted sideways, 
pointing to Martin) is named Tomaso Diavolo, and 
never a better name had anyone than he, nor one 
more suitable to his nature.” 

The officer put his lips together until they were 
like a line, keeping his keen eyes fixed on me. 

“ There was a man, very like you, Signor Augus- 
tini Pietro Navarino, with whom I crossed swords 
at Aleria,” he said, “but as you appear to be a 
friend of Rota ” 

“The dearest friend I have in the world,” inter- 
rupted the tax-gatherer with a scream, and for some 
reason the officer burst into a laugh as past the 
grinning soldiers, with Martin hugging Signor Rota 
under the cloak, we went through the gate, out 
into the road which led to liberty. 

For a good half dozen miles we kept Signor Rota 
prisoner, although he vowed that his services were 
more urgently needed in Ajaccio that day than they 
had ever been before; but there was too much 
danger for us to allow him to return home until 
Martin and I had put a safe distance between Ajac- 
cio and ourselves. 

“ You will remember this pleasant journey we 
have made together. Signor Rota,” said Martin, as 
we came at length to a part of the country which 
was quite unknown to me. 

“I shall remember many other things,” replied 


UNLOOKED-FOR AID. 


283 


the tax-gatherer, gnashing his teeth, for Martin stood 
laughing at him, “ and if the time comes, you also, 
my friend, shall j-ecollect this day.” 

“ I shall never forget your kindness to us, ” laughed 
Martin, “because without your ready wit, Camilla 
and I might be in prison at this very moment, 
instead of being where we are. You have done one 
good action at least, gentle Signor Rota, and now 
fare ye well.” 

Signor Rota turned on his heel and walked so 
quickly from us that he seemed to be running, 
disappearing like an evil spirit into the shadow of a 
clump of cork trees, an dMartin watched him go. 

“ There is a long rent in Signor Rota’s coat, ” he 
said, “ just between his shoulders ; and now, Camilla, 
tell me what part of Corsica we have got to.” 

I looked round, but the scene was strange to me, 
and I looked for some familiar landmark by which 
we might be guided into the road leading to Corte, 
but without seeing anything except the rising moun- 
tains before us and the sloping country by which 
we had come from Ajaccio. It was an unknown 
land, and for a moment or two I stood, uncertain 
which way to turn. 


CHAPTER XXTX. 


•a wonderful coming.* 

I SUPPOSE it was the haste with which we had 
left the walls of Ajaccio behind that occasioned 
us to miss our way, but whatever the reason 
might have been, I can only say that we became 
at last lost in a gloomy ravine, unable to distinguish 
the path through it, with the hill-tops frowning above 
like giants to prevent our further progress. 

“ This is not the road to Corte, ” exclaimed Mar- 
tin, “ and that is the only thing I am certain about.” 

“Except that we have quite lost our road,” I 
answered, “ or that maybe some band like the Red 
Gambini’s will beset us presently.” 

“ They are welcome to all the wealth I have 
about me, ” replied Martin carelessly ; “ but the delay 
in returning to Farmer Vico’s house troubles me.” 
“We are going to Corte,” I exclaimed. 

“We are going to the farmer’s,” he answered, “if 
I can find my way thither, and afterwards maybe 
to Corte; but at this moment we may be going 
back to Ajaccio for what I know, so let us rest 
contented with being where we are until daybreak.” 

284 


\ 


“A WONDERFUL COMING.” 285 

There was no help for it but to follow Martin’s 
advice, and that night we slept beneath the shelter 
of an overhanging rock. Nasone had provided us 
with some food, and what remained of our midday 
meal we ate for supper, after which, tired from our long 
walk, for we had travelled many miles since parting 
from Signor Rota, I was very soon asleep. 

Morning’s light brought no hope with it, however, 
of our recovering the road to Corte. Everywhere, 
turn which way we might, were the mountains rearing 
their heads into the blue sky, a solitude undisturbed 
by any living thing surrounding us on every side. 
Accustomed as I was to the loneliness of the moun- 
tains, the scene impressed me, and Martin walked 
silently by my side, as we wound round the heaving 
side of a great hill. 

“I would give a goodly sum to know what part 
of the world we are in,” he said, as though he had 
been considering the matter during that long silence 
of his. “ Try and guess where we are, Camilla.” 

“I cannot do that even, yet there is the feel of 
the sea in the air,” I replied, “ we are not far from 
the coast, I think. There was a mist, which the sun 
has driven away, and that comes from the sea.” 

I was not wrong in supposing us to be approaching 
the coast, for soon after this, as we clambered our 
way through a privet thicket, we stood within sight 
of the sea, that lay sparkling in the warm sunshine. 
And on the left of where we were standing rose at 
a distance of a mile or more the grey ruins of a 


286 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


fortress, at seeing which a crowd of wild recollections 
came into my mind, for the grey tower was the 
fortress of Aleria, which I had helped to wrest from 
the hands of the Genoese, and below it lay the little 
town, dipping into the shining water. 

“Yonder is Aleria,” I cried, “and we shall find 
our way to Corte without trouble, Martin!” 

“If the road leads to Farmer Vico’s,” he replied, 
“because I am going there, and to no other place 
until I have been there.” 

“You are strangely set on seeing Signor Vico,” 
I said, “ or maybe it is Dame Ursulo you are thinking 
of — What vessel is that?” For just at this moment 
a ship under fuU sail came rounding the promontory 
on our right hand. 

In an instant Martin had lost his listless air, but 
for a time he could do nothing but gaze intently at 
the vessel. There was a flag flying from the mast- 
head, and his eyes seemed devouring the sight of it. 
“It is the flag of England!” he shouted, giving a 
great leap in the air. “The flag I sail under, 
Camilla, and the ship is making for Aleria, or may 
I never have the handling of a rope again.” 

. “ Then let us get there and see what Fortune is 
bringing to Corsica again, ” I answered, remembering 
the English ships that had brought us stores and 
help at the hour of need before. 

Martin waited a few moments, in which we 
watched the ship as she ploughed her way under 
full sail toward the shore, and we saw a hundred 


“A WONDERFUL COMING/ 287 

flags or more hoisted, making her the gayest spec- 
tacle I had witnessed for many a long day. From 
her stern floated a great banner, having a gaudy 
coat of arms emblazoned on it, and the decks were 
crowded with men. 

All these things we regarded with wondering 
eyes, and then began making our way to Aleria, 
meeting presently some groups of men hurrying 
thither also, so that as we neared the place we were 
with a crowd which grew greater every moment, until 
it joined the townspeople thronging the wide, sloping 
street that leads down through Aleria to the sea. 

“ There is some stirring business a-foot,” said Martin, 
as we went past a house from the open windows 
of which could be heard voices in animated conver- 
sation, “and I have already seen some faces that I 
remember. Yes, there goes one of General Giafferi’s 
troopers, and unless my ears have deceived me, it was a 
voice you ought to know better than I, Camilla, which 
was speaking in the room we passed just now.” 

“ There is such a hubbub, that I could not distin- 
guish one voice from another,” I replied as we 
hastened onward ; “ But yonder goes the fellow with 
whom you fought, Martin, and in the distance is 
someone very like Serafino,” and so excited was I 
by the unexpected sight that I gave a shout of joy, 
in which those nearest to me joined, waving their 
caps, and then Martin and I ran at full speed to 
where the big figure had been not a moment before ; 
yet so great was the press and movement of the 


288 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


crowd that I had lost sight of it almost immediately, 
finding myself hurried down to the beach where 
was a throng of grave-looking men, whose dress 
and bearing betokened them to be gentlemen, and 
foremost amongst them were Signor Hyacinthus 
Paoli, with some of the other leaders in the revolt, 
whom I had seen in the market-place of Corte when 
the insurrection was proclaimed. 

It was a sight never to be forgotten which Aleria 
saw that day, nor the events that were to follow 
the coming of the ship, from which high above the 
fluttering array of flags that bedecked her from stem 
to stem, waved the English ensign. Along the 
shore ranged a line of spectators, who kept apart 
a little space from Hyacinthus Paoli and his com- 
panions, and between the rippling fringe of the sea 
and the low coast stretched a strip of golden sand. 
Above us the burning sun sent its glittering rays 
upon the ship, making everything aboard her plainly 
visible as she came within a short distance of 
land, dropping anchor a few moments afterwards, 
and a ringing cheer went up from the expectant 
throng. The help so long waited and hoped for 
had come at last; the means by w^hich the struggle 
with our oppressors might be continued had been 
brought, and amid a silence, more profound by fol- 
lowing the shout of triumph, we waited with eager 
eyes, watching the preparations in progress upon 
the newly-arrived vessel. 

Three boats had meantime been lowered from her, 


A WONDERFUL COMING. 


289 


and into these got a number of gaily dressed men 
who remained erect after reaching the boats, having 
their heads uncovered and their faces upturned toward 
the vessel’s deck. Then a salute of fifteen guns 
bellowed out, the reports following each other at 
regular intervals, and when the last one had ceased, 
a shrill cheer came shoreward from the boats, through 
the cloud of smoke. As the smoke lifted lazily, like 
a curtain rising, I saw descending the side of the 
ship a strangely attired man, who held a curious 
staff which glittered like gold, and with this he 
seemed to exercise a sway over those standing in 
the boats, for as he waved the shining staff slowly 
in a half circle, they bowed themselves — one indeed 
bent so low that he was near to falling into the 
sea — and some kind of musical instrument was played 
as the strange man stepped majestically into the 
largest of the three boats. There was a row of 
faces leaning over the side of the ship as he took 
his seat, and the cheer was raised again when the 
boats moved toward the shore, the one carrying the 
curious newcomer being between the others, and in 
a few moments they were close to the land. As 
they ran on the sandy beach, those in the smaller 
boats leaped nimbly out, and formed into two lines, 
leaving a passage between them, and down this 
came the man whom I had seen leaving the ship, 
who walked with the stateliest air imaginable, still 
waving his gilded staff. 

I saw Hyacinthus Paoli, and those with him, 

IQ 


290 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


hurrying down to where the newcomer stood gazing 
loftily about him, but of them I took no heed, x for 
there was enough to look and wonder at in this 
curiously dressed stranger. He was arrayed in a 
long caftan of scarlet silk, and wore spangled trousers 
such as the Moors wear (for of these people I had 
seen pictures at Fabiani’s), and long yellow shoes with 
pointed toes. There was a great, broad-brimmed 
hat of black velvet on his head, and a plume ot 
feathers waved down his back, whilst to complete 
his dress, he wore a wide yellow girdle in which 
were thrust pistols and a curved sword. But great 
beyond all these things was the bearing of the man, 
and the manner of his looking upward at the throng 
and around him at the town and towering mountains, 
for although I had only heard kings and conquerors 
spoken of I felt that no king could have looked 
and walked more majestically than did this stranger. 
He was a fair-complexioned man with long, light 
moustaches, and not much above the average height, 
although the curled white wig, on the top of which 
was perched the flapping hat, made him appear a 
head taller than his companions. There were a dozen 
of these in an attitude of reverence on either side, and 
past them he stalked, holding his staff before him — as 
one would hold a lamp — and then I saw Paoli meet 
him, making a grave bow as he did so. 

“Welcome to Corsica, most honourable Theo- 
dore,” I heard Paoli say, for in spite of the new- 
comer’s grandeur Martin and I had struggled through 


A WONDERFUL COMING. 


291 


the crowd up to where he stood. “ Thrice welcome, 
at this hour! ” 

And Theodore, as Paoli named him, stood a-tip- 
toe of his yellow boots and gave a flourish of his 
glittering staff, whilst those with Paoli stood bowing 
in a row, and the on-lookers sent up a cheer which 
was joined in like an echo from aboard ship. There 
was a dwarfish drummer I remember (as one will 
trifling circumstances in the midst of important 
events) who appeared suddenly from one of the boats, 
running until he stood before the magnificent stranger, 
and the elfish fellow gave such a rattle on his drum 
as to almost drown the answer which Theodore 
gave to Hyacinthus Paoli. But someone seized the 
drummer by the collar, swinging him aside, and I 
saw the retainers drop on one knee, whilst with 
the greatest solemnity Theodore spoke again. 

“I am come to your country,” he began slowly, 
looking round at us, “to save you. Your troubles, your 
bravery, your long suffering have gained my sympa- 
thy, and I am here to show that sympathy by deeds 
and gifts. For a long time preparations have been 
in progress for the succour of your countrymen, 
Signor Paoli, and behold the fruits of my exer- 
tions. ” And at this Theodore waved his staff in the 
direction of the ship, where already active workers 
had begun to unload her. The boats had returned to 
the vessel, and barrels of ammunition, bales of goods, 
and other things were being brought to land. 

There was such a royal manner accompanying 


292 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


Theodore’s words, which were, after all, without 
much solid meaning I thought, that everyone vlio 
listened seemed fascinated. There was some 
further conversation between him and our leaders, 
after which a procession was formed, at the head 
of which the elfish drummer placed himself, nobody 
hindering him, and to the rub-a-dub-dub, of his 
drum the procession went up the hilly street of the 
town, followed and beset by the streaming crowd, 
until Theodore and his retainers, with Hyacinthus 
Paoli and the others, disappeared into a house, and 
Martin and I went down again through the crowd 
to the shore. 

“Who is this wonderful stranger?” I asked, “and 
where has he come from?” 

“Here comes someone who can tell us, maybe,” 
cried Martin, running forward to where a burly figure 
stood in the midst of a little knot of men, and who 
turning round at my companion’s shout of recog- 
nition, answered it with another, and I saw my old 
comrade Serafino. 

Although he was ragged and wellnigh shoeless 
Serafino had never worn a happier look than when 
with his big hands outstretched he rushed toward 
me, uttering my name in a way that proved his 
delight. 

“Better even than the coming of that German 
baron Theodore,” exclaimed he, “is the seeing you 
again, Camilla, for the news came to us that you 
had been killed by Gambini and his band. This 


A WONDERFUL COMING. 


293 


will be a glad surprise for Cesario, who is in yonder 
house with the others, welcoming the Baron of Neu- 
hoff. Tell me your history quickly, as we get away 
from this rabble.” 

“But how came you yourself in Aleria?” cried 
Martin, who had been shaking hands for a minute 
or longer with Serafino, and at this our newly found 
comrade gave out such a roar of laughter that it 
could have been heard a mile off. 

“That is my story,” he answered, “and has no- 
thing more in it than this. After we had been driven 
back from our position by the Genoese, we had a 
week of starving. Then a day or two of hope, 
hearing that help was coming to us from across the 
water; and so when the ship which you see there 
was expected, such of us as could get here, came 
to view the sight. Cesario told me more than many 
of the others heard, and that this German who has 
arrived is to do great things for Corsica. He has 
riches and power, courage and strength, friends 
without number and companions galore, he is a 
Grandee of Spain, a Lord of Great Britain, a Peer 
of France, a Count of the German Empire, and a 
Prince of Russia to boot, and if such a man can- 
not help us, who can?” 

“He has been expected?” I exclaimed. “Paoli 
and the others have been waiting for his arrival, 
you say?” 

“I am not in their secrets,” replied Serafino, “but 
when you see Cesario, he will satisfy your curiosity. 


294 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


At the present moment I am only concerned to 
satisfy my hunger, for not even the sight of a 
Russian Prince will make up for the need of a meal. 
Oh, but it has been a sorry time of privation since 
I saw you both last, such thirsts, such starvings, 
such dreams of good food and such awakenings to 
renewed hunger, that I had rather see a stew of 
sheep’s meat than the finest baron in all Germany,” 
and Serafino ended his speech with a snatch of his 
one song for joy as we three walked arm in arm 
through the crowd to where, he solemnly assured 
us, a worthy woman had undertaken to provide his 
dinner, for a promise of payment. 

During the meal we heard that Massoni had been 
left badly wounded at a cottager’s near the scene of 
the defeat which the Corsican troops had sustained. 

“But it is not Massoni’s time yet for dying,” 
remarked Serafino, “and we shall see him anon in 
the thick of the fighting, for now that this German 
baron is come we shall have plenty of it. But 
Cesario will tell you aU the news, and therefore, when 
we have eaten our dinner, let us get to him.” 

“Has anything been seen or heard of our old 
friend Poli?” I asked, and at this Serafino burst 
into a roar of laughter. 

“Not even his shadow has been seen,” he an- 
swered, “ yet I heard tell that his house door stood 
unbolted in Corte and that the fierce figure of a 
woman flitted in and out through it, like a bat at 
nightfall — his housekeeper I take the figure to be, 


“A WONDERFUL COMING.” 295 

and although Poll fears those whom he has deceived, 
he fears this she-dragon a good deal more. But 
there will be time to talk of him presently, and of 
those whom you remember, Camilla — Fabiani Brasco 
and others. Just now we have the Baron of NeuhofF 
to consider, and by the sound of the trampling feet 
outside, he is stirring.” 

The rub-a-dub of the drum outside could be 
heard, and having satisfied his hunger at last Sera- 
fino and we left the house, making our way to where 
a throng had gathered outside the place in which 
the magnificent stranger had been entertained by 
Hyacinthus Paoli and the other leaders. Here we 
met Cesario, whose joy at seeing me kept him for 
some moments from telling us the story we were 
all longing to hear. And when he did so, half the 
tale was lost amid the confusion which prevailed in 
Aleria that day. The crowd grew greater each 
moment, for the news had come that the baron was 
preparing for his journey to Cervione, where a 
house had been made ready for his occupancy, and 
although not more than a dozen people knew at that 
moment the meaning of his presence, nor the purpose 
of his errand, we all cheered him until the moun- 
tains echoed, when with his kindly air, and in 
garments even more wonderful than at first Theo- 
dore of NeuhofF stood in the narrow doorway of 
that little house in Aleria, surveying the excited 
throng with a well satisfied look on his fair face. 

Down on the beach meantime, the unloading of 


296 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


the vessel and been proceeding busily, before the 
eyes of the multitude. Cannons and muskets, cloth- 
ing and food, together with money and ammunition 
had been brought to us without stint, and never 
before had such gifts been more acceptable, nor the 
donor of them more belauded than now. We, in 
the upper part of the little town, could hear the 
cheerful bustle of the busy workers on shore, and 
when with a reverence never excelled Paoli and the 
others made way for the Baron, so that he might 
take his place at the head of the procession, it 
seemed as though all our troubles and wrongs were 
forgotten and a time of peace and plenty dawned 
at last. . 

Through the street, out into the white dusty road 
we trooped, the elfish drummer beating time to our 
march, and at last the town of Cervione was 
reached. It was the bishop’s house in which the new- 
comer was to be lodged, and there Martin and I 
saw him disappear with his companions. Cesario was 
of these, and it was not until the following day 
that we sav7 our old comrade again, nor learnt the 
history of Theodore of NeuhofF and his purpose in 
coming to Corsica. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


THE KING IS CROWNED. 

A lthough Cesario told us a great deal, it 
was not until long after the events I have 
narrated in the previous chapter that I learnt 
the whole history of the Westphalian baron who 
became king of Corsica, and because that history 
has always been to me one of the strangest, and 
Theodore of Neuhoff one of the boldest adventurers 
as well as one of the most successful ever known, 
I will proceed to briefly tell the one and describe 
the other, at this point in my story. 

The curious stranger was a German, who when 
a youth had served as page at the court of the 
Duchess of Orleans, from, whence he entered the 
Spanish service, returning some years after to France. 
Here he joined himself with speculators, being at 
one time possessed of riches, and at another time 
miserably poor, and it was said of him that he had 
experience of everything, seen everything, thought, 
plotted, enjoyed, and been deprived of everything, 
until at last, having exhausted every form of happi- 
ness, he resolved to become a King. At first his 

297 


298 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

resolve was to be monarch of Trebizonde, but 
happening to meet some Corsicans who had been 
brought prisoners to Genoa, he altered his plans. 

How he travelled through Europe, enlisting help 
and sympathy, I need not pause to tell, but his 
tireless energy and cleverness at last resulted in his 
obtaining the means necessary for his project, and 
when this had been achieved he suddenly landed on 
the shore of Corsica in the manner already told, at 
the hour of our greatest need, being saluted as the 
saviour of the country, with honours such as a king 
would have received. 

Such then was Theodore’s history, and with his 
person I had full opportunity of becoming acquainted, 
by being brought into close association with him. 
His disposition was good-natured and cheerful, but 
of his learning those able to judge spoke but little. 
I think his cleverness would be best described as 
cunning, and his warm friendship but as the use of 
those whh whom he surrounded himself. He had 
a magnificent way of making pretension, so that 
even when his resources were exhausted, the manner 
in which he promised further supplies and the con- 
fidence which those ■ promises aroused, were almost 
equal to arms and ammunition themselves. He had 
a ready smile and gracious bearing, that impressed 
us all favourably, I remember; whilst the rewards, 
and promises of rewards that were as good wellnigh, 
were eagerly accepted by those who were able to 
do Theodore the slightest service. 


THE KING IS CROWNED. 


299 


It was through Cesario that Martin and I were 
brought into intimate connection with the King, as 
indeed I must call him, and a little room in the 
bishop’s house at Cervione was obtained for our use. 
Cesario himself was already one of the King’s most 
trusted attendants, having had the post of Commander 
of Theodore’s body-guard entrusted to him. He was 
General Arrighi now, in a uniform glittering with 
gold lace, and Serafino was next to him in dignity. 
I know not what rank Serafino held, but he ruled 
the body-guard with a rod of iron, drilling them 
carelessly in the little courtyard of the bishop’s house, 
and making his voice heard continually through the 
whole of Cervione. These things, however, were 
after Theodore’s coronation, which ceremony it was 
decided should be performed upon his arrival in 
Corsica, for it appeared that the Baron’s plans had 
been well known and approved of by the leaders 
in the revolt, and before many days had gone by, 
the deputies —there were two from each commune 
of the island — came in a ragged body to the bishop’s 
house with the purpose of offering the crown of 
Corsica to Baron Theodore, who received so many 
of the deputation as could squeeze themselves into 
the room, and the speech he made on that occasion 
made up for all the hardships the Corsicans had 
endured hitherto. 

Martin and I were stifling in a corner, for what 
with Serafino and his soldiers, the crowd of 
people who were around Theodore’s chair, and the 


300 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


struggling* mass of deputies, there was but little 
space left for breathing in, but what mattered that 
in the face of the purpose for which the assembly 
had come together. I was glad when it was per- 
formed, however, and we were free to move again, 
although Serafino must needs form his soldiers into 
order first, and crush his way at their head out of the 
room, with the drummer, whom nobody could subdue, 
banging his drum-h^ad like a threshing floor. 

Then followed the coronation the day after, and 
that also was an imposing sight, although so poor 
were we, that there was not sufficient gold to make 
a crown, but one was twined of laurel and oak 
twigs and placed on the head of the first and last 
King of Corsica in the common room of the convent 
of Alesani, which is hard by Cervione. The newly- 
crowned monarch, amid the acclamations of all present, 
signed the great sheet of parchment whereon were 
written the articles of the Constitution, and swore 
to maintain them; and everything seemed to have 
changed from despair to hope and confidence. There 
were banquetings and merry-makings far and near, 
the sounds of bellowing volleys of cannon fire, as 
the news spread, and serene in the midst of this 
universal rejoicing King Theodore of Corsica was 
carried back to the bishop’s house in Cervione, 
which was henceforward to be known as his palace, 
and here after long hours of revelling Serafino 
joined us. 

“Never did I think to see a day such at this,” 


THE KING IS CROWNED. 301 

he shouted, flinging a gilded casque which he had 
worn into a corner, “ nor that Serafino the Younger 
— which is myself — would ever be second in command 
of a king’s body-guard. How have I played my part 
this day ? — how did I look and bear myself? ” 

“ Like a hero ! ” exclaimed Martin. “You were 
a sight never to be forgotten— nobler than King 
Theodore himself, and bigger than one of the sons 
of Anak.” 

“I know not whom that same Anak may be,” 
replied Serafino, “ but if he is in the service of the 
King I am ready to shake him by the hand. For 
this change that has come over me is marvellous. 
To think that once upon a time the shirri hunted 
me like a wild beast in the mountains; that I have 
been in danger of my life by the common hangman ; 
that I have been hungry and thirsty, ragged and 
footsore, and am now a trusted officer of a king, 
having, besides, the right to wear a uniform more 
gorgeous than the dress of an Italian nobleman. 
I, Serafino the Younger — oh, but for wonders this 
time has never had its equal — and if your thirst 
has spared a drop of liquor pass me that panni- 
kin, good Camilla, for what with the heat and need 
for talking my throat is as parched as the high 
road to Alesani, over which I have just passed.” 

“Where is Cesario?” I asked, laughing heartily 
at Serafino whose great honest face was ruddier 
than a love-apple. “ Has he been with you ? ” 

“ Cesario indeed, ” cried Serafino, snapping his 


302 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


fingers. “ Why, where should he be but at the 
right hand of the King, who is minded to make 
Cesario chiefest of his military officers, and who 
knows but what I shall rise with him. Think of 
me as General Serafino — that has a goodly sound 
and only needs an allowance of money to give me 
every happiness. I will harry those who have 
harried me — the shirri shall be driven hither and 
thither, the hangman of Corte — stay, I will be a 
warm friend of that same hangman Tortoni, for I 
shall need his services. There will be plenty of work 
for his skilful hand, and the first one to be hanged 
shall be the notary Poli when I can catch him. ” 

“But he is safe in Bastia,” said I. 

“We shall capture Bastia,” retorted Serafino. “It 
is to be one of our first works after the Corsican 
army is reconstructed. Bastia, Porto Vecchio, Sartem, 
Ajaccio, they are all to fall, for what walls are 
stout enough, or enemy strong enough, to resist 
us, when Generalissimo Cesario Arrighi leads an 
army, and General Serafino is second in command ” 
And with this he began marching to and fro, 
roaring out the refrain of the old song “ Eterna 
faremo vendetta,” which I had heard first amid the 
wild recesses of the hills beyond Monte Rotondo, 
long ago. Then he explained to us that his presence 
was required at Court, and picking up the gilded 
casque Serafino strode out of the room with his 
sword clattering, and Martin and I were left alone. 

“ I wish you were able to stay in Corsica to see 


THE KING IS CROWNED. 


303 


what is to happen,” I said, turning to my com- 
panion, “ for that a wonderful change is in store 
for us is plainly to be perceived.” 

“ Stay in Corsica? ” cried Martin surprised. “ What 
do you mean, Camilla? ” 

“You will sail in the English ship which goes in 
a few days, they say,” I answered. 

Martin shook his head. “ I sail in no ship, 
until ” but here he stopped. 

“Until when?” I enquired. 

“ I have given Signor Vico a promise,” he answered, 
quite solemnly for him, “ and not until that is ful- 
filled shall I quit Corsica.” And although I tried 
my best to make him tell me more, not another 
word on the subject could I get from Martin, 


CHAPTER XXXL 

THE PROGRESS OF THEODORE. 

N OW that Theodore was hi the possession of u 
royal title, those who had helped him to that 
dignity and maintained him in it were them- 
selves ennobled. Nothing was easier than to become 
a lord or count, except maybe the being changed 
into a marquis. Giafferi and Hyacinthus Paoli 
were each this, and prime ministers also of the 
King; Castineta was made a count, and had the 
command of the town of Rostini; Cesario Arrighi 
a lord with the office of inspector-general of the 
royal troops, whilst besides those I have mentioned, 
margraves, lieutenant-generals, royal captains, cham- 
berlains, ushers, chancellors and secretaries were in 
such abundance that it was more wonderful to meet 
with a plain man at court than one with some high- 
sounding title. 

Of the Court itself I have the most vivid recol- 
lection, and can see before me now King Theodore 
seated in the bishop’s chair — it made a tolerable 
throne when a cushion softened the seat, and Mar- 
tin and I have often occupied that throne in jest — 
304 


THE PROGRESS OF THEODORE. 


305 


with the gilded thing I have referred to previously, in 
his hand. The staff was Theodore’s sceptre, without 
which he never administered justice, nor held a 
council, for all that it got sadly frayed ere the time 
came for him to lay it down for good. And the 
room which formed the principal meeting-place of 
the courtiers was so small that there was barely 
space enough for them to bow in, being shabby al- 
most to ruin; although when the candles were lit, 
and the hangings displayed at night, the dust and 
raggedness of the place became hidden as it were. 
The house was always filled with people, some coming, 
some going, some with petitions (it was my duty to 
present them to the King, being a page of honour 
and having the title of Squire I remember) which 
contained every conceivable request, and not one 
of them but King Theodore read it, and sent the 
petitioner away happy with a glowing promise ; and 
some people there were who came begging for a 
place at court, as though it were not overflowing 
with attendants and hangers-on already. However, 
all who asked had their requests granted, until Gen- 
eral Serafino took the matter in hand, by placing a 
company of soldiers at the entrance of the house, 
who had orders to prevent strangers intruding them- 
selves. 

“There is little enough provisions left,” he said 
to us one evening, as Martin and I sat with him 
in the guard room that had been the bishop’s garden 
house, “ and there are more to eat than will be 

20 


3o6 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


able to satisfy their hunger. I have consulted with 
the chief cook, and said he — yet but what matters 
what a chief cook may say? ” and Serafino gave a 
twist to his moustache disdainfully. 

“There is to be a banquet to-morrow,” said Mar- 
tin, “and I have been foraging for the cook. It is 
to be hoped there will be no more feasts until the 
ships come which the King has told us of. For 
although I went with a royal warrant in my hand, 
neither wine nor food could I get.” 

“Keep that news to yourself, Signor Martino,” 
grinned Serafino, “although it is true as any ever 
known. Something will happen shortly, mark me. 
It is not to sit idle that King Theodore has ascended 
his throne.” 

“Nor to sit comfortably there either,” retorted 
Martin. “For of all the miserable places to be 
seated in, commend me to the throne of Corsica.” 

Serafino was about to make a speech regarding 
the danger of talking treason, I think, when a 
message came to me that my attendance was required 
by His Majesty, whereupon I left my companions, and 
going across the dewy grass, entered the house. 

King Theodore was pacing to and fro in a gor- 
geous dressing-gown, that had a long rent in it, 
which he was careful to hide now and again, for- 
getting it, I suppose, however, when he was engrossed 
in speaking to me. He had put aside the emblems 
of his royal state, and was an ordinary looking man 
with a careworn face and skin of marble. His head 


THE PROGRESS OF THEODORE. 


307 


was wrapped in a sort of turban, ill tied and dirty, 
and the curled wig hung upon the back of a broken 
chair. It was evident that something weighed heavily 
on the King’s mind, and taking me by the arm, 
we walked up and down the room as though he 
were no more than the ordinary personage he looked. 
He had often treated me with friendliness and con- 
fidence, telling me many of the annoyances and 
troubles which he kept from others ; and Martin also 
was a great favourite of the King, mainly because 
of my companion being an Englishman, and on the 
occasion I am speaking of Theodore asked me 
whether Martin would perform a service of some 
danger for him. 

“It is to go to Ajaccio,” explained the King, 
“where it behoves us to discover those who are 
friendly to our dynasty, and to gather information 
of other kinds.” 

“There was never anyone better fitted to be 
trusted upon such an embassy than Martin Chicheley, ” 
I answered. “He will go gladly, and he can be 
trusted. ” 

“Yes,” replied Theodore thoughtfully, “ an Eng- 
lishman’s word before any other man’s in the whole 
world. We can trust your friend Martin. Is he 
acquainted with the road to Ajaccio ? ” 

“Nothing is easier than to find the way thither, 
vSire,” I exclaimed, “nor will anything be more to 
Martin’s liking than to go to the town.” 

“ I would ask you to perform this service for us, ” 


3o8 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


continued Theodore, “but I cannot spare you from 
the Court just now. Bring Martin to our presence 
forthwith.” And then it was that the King seemed 
to restore himself to his dignity, speaking in a tone 
of sudden pride as he took his curly wig from the 
chair, and placed it on his shaven head, after throwing 
the turban into a corner. 

I went to the guard room, where Serafino was 
denouncing the wilful waste of giving a banquet 
when there was not a full cask of wine in the palace, 
nor a whole sheep in the larder, and beckoning to 
Martin I gave him King Theodore’s message. 

“Goto i^'accio, do you tell me, Camilla?” cried 
Martin, leaping from his seat. “ Ay, that I will right 
joyfully, for it has been the one thought in my mind 
these many days how to fetch that place.” 

“You may perchance encounter Signor Vico,” I 
continued, “ and if so say that I promise him he 
shall share in the good things the King has ^^oken 
about as coming to us. For Signor Vico did us a 
service I at least shall never forget.” 

“ Ay, I shall see him, ” replied Martin shortly. 

“And Dame Ursulo,” I added. 

“ And Dame Ursulo,” repeated Martin, as we went 
to the house. 

“Nor must Lucia be forgotten,” I said. 

“There is no chance of Lucia being not remem- 
bered,” said Martin. “And now you shall know 
the reason for my refusing a passage in the ship 
by which Baron Theodore came. “ One was offered 


THE PROGRESS OF THEODORE. 


309 


Die" — and I dare say my companion would have 
told me the cause of his staying in Corsica, but at 
that moment the dwarfish drummer came under our 
feet almost — he was for ever in somebody’s way 
either within or without the palace — and because I had 
set a foot on him the imp raged like a snake almost. 

I left Martin with his Majesty, from whom he 
received his instructions; but what these were, or 
what the nature of his errand was, other than I have 
already told, I cannot say. Suffice it, then, to say 
that early next morning Martin started on his journey, 
promising to see me again soon. Serafino turned 
out the guard, I remember, to honour our comrade’s 
departure, and I saw Martin for the last time for 
many a day, waving his hand to us before he dis- 
appeared behind the brow of a hill. 

There are many things which I might recount of 
the King and his councillors, the manner of our 
strange life whilst the Court remained at Cervione, 
and the shifts we were put to in living packed 
closely in the bishop’s house; but at this length of 
time since then, these events seemed too trivial to 
be set down fully. I recollect, however, that the 
days went swiftly past without Martin returning to 
us, and how in that time King Theodore performed 
a task which I doubt very much whether any other 
man could have undertaken, and that was to induce 
his followers to forswear their private quarrels and 
take the oath of forgiveness toward their enemies. 
He was firm in his purpose for banishing the “ Ven- 


310 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

detta” from the island, and whether he succeeded 
or not, I know that all those, and they formed a 
large portion of his friends, who held it as a sacred 
trust almost, swore to forget their wrongs and allow 
their enemies to live in peace and security. I can 
never forget the sight of Cesario taking this oath, 
nor the struggle with his bitter memories that it 
cost him, but he responded outright to the solemn 
words of the court-chaplain, which freed Fabiani 
Brasco from the dread he had so long lived in. I 
remember Serafino too, as he stood looking more 
solemn than the court-chaplain himself, mouthing 
the oath as though it burnt his tongue. 

“ Thank the Saints ! ” whispered Serafino as he 
moved from the spot where the oath had been 
administered, “ that I am done with the trial at 
last. It was easy to forgive some half dozen ancient 
foes of mine and I did so heartily, but the notary 
stuck in my throat, for his weazened face and 
withered legs seemed to be dancing before my face 
as I called them to mind. And, moreover, I had so 
long cherished the thought of slaying him that to 
be baulked of the pleasure was like taking a brim- 
ming cup from the lips of a parched man. However, 
I have hope still — there is yet the she-dragon to 
bring punishment on the villain, for if that fiery 
housekeeper of Signor Poli’s does not make a 
quick end of him, what have such fire and brim- 
stone as she, to say nothing of her long tongue, 
been created for?” 


THE PROGRESS OF THEODORE. 


311 


Serafino’s mention of the notary, and the sight 
of Cesario’s renunciation of his own life-long venge- 
ance against my cousin, brought back to me the 
sense of my unfortunate condition, and the wrongs 
that Fabiani Brasco and Teodor had done me. 
Since the King’s coming the stream of changing 
affairs had made me forgetful of my own, but that 
day which I have described thus briefly, when the 
“Vendetta” was put aside by my companions, was 
the time of my awakening to the realization that I 
had been deeply wronged. I remembered Nasone’s 
words ; the night scene wherein I had saved his life 
from being taken by Fabiani; and I resolved to use 
every means in my power to bring my treacherous 
kinsmen to justice. 

The settlement of the family feuds being accom- 
plished, King Theodore’s army took the field against 
the Genoese, and in the month of April, 1736, the 
important town of Porto Vecchio was taken after 
a hardly contested battle. The fall of Sortene 
followed this, and although our enemies scoffed at 
and ridiculed the King of Corsica, it was soon 
proved that he was a formidable foe, and one whom 
they had to reckon with. He was a gallant soldier, 
in spite of his love of finery and empty show, and 
his bravery won him the admiration of his followers. 
And not only in the fighting did Theodore distin- 
guish himself, but in the management and care with 
which he ruled the distracted country; and I believe 
he would have succeeded in giving it peace and 


312 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


prosperity, if fate had not prevented him. He set 
up a mint, from which were issued coins of gold, 
silver, and copper, having a laurel-wreathed shield 
and the letters T.R. on one side, and the words 
pro hono et liberate^ on the other, of which coins 
I have three of the silver ones now by me. But 
alas, there were so few of them, and those so greedily 
clutched by grasping fingers before the coins were 
cold, as I may say, that the mint for all its show 
of providing money for the country, was little better 
than the other promises held out by the King. He 
was continually announcing the appearance of a 
friendly fleet, and a thousand eyes kept watch upon 
the waters, eagerly expecting a sight they were 
never to witness. 

But there was work to do while waiting for re- 
inforcements and help from other lands for the cap- 
ture of Bastia, which was one of the most important 
strongholds remaining to the Genoese on the island. 
It may be truly stated that we had driven them from 
the interior, which, however, was left in a condition 
of great distress, the inhabitants murmuring sul- 
lenly against the King and his councillors, who 
alone seemed to flourish amid the desperate strait 
in which Corsica lay so helplessly. 

To add to this direful condition yet another 
horror, the Genoese had let loose upon the country 
a band of blood-thirsty miscreants, composed of 
murderers, galley slaves, and banditti, which com- 
pany was called the “ Vittoli” ; and horrible deeds 


THE PROGRESS OF THEODORE. 


313 


were performed by these, who made inroads into 
the lonely spots, perpetrating outrages that I shrink 
from the description of. More than once King 
Theodore’s soldiers had encountered detachments of 
the “ Vittoli” and driven them back to the moun- 
tains, until at length it was thought that the band had 
been rendered powerless to do further harm. 

The King led the attack upon Bastia in person, 
and after an unsuccessful assault had been made, 
the place was closely invested. General Giafferi 
being left in command of the besieging army. 
There were more important duties for the King to 
attend to than even the capture of Bastia, the state 
of the country requiring his presence at Corte and 
other places, and with a small bodyguard he quitted 
us for a time, giving, however, another of his faithful 
promises of returning shortly to complete the victory 
over the oppressors of his beloved country. 

Nothing had been seen nor heard of Martin 
Chicheley since his leaving Cervione for Ajaccio, and 
a dismal foreboding filled me that some harm had 
happened to him. That he was faithless to his trust 
I never thought, but the countless dangers which 
doubtless he had encountered, I was confident, 
had prevented him from fulfilling it, and the 
grievous sorrow at our separation that possessed 
me, not even the incidents of besieging Bastia could 
remove. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 

I T was the day following the King’s leaving Uo 
when I made my way to Serafino’s tent, where, 
perplexed by a plan which had been set down 
on a huge sheet of paper for his guidance, I found 
him awaiting the arrival of Cesario. 

“ The plan may be plain to those who can under- 
stand it,” growled Serafino, rubbing his head thought- 
fully. “ But I am not a man of learning, nor likely 
to be. At fighting I am at home, but with this 
mass of lines, figures, and letters confronting me I 
feel inclined to run away from the things. Look at 
this, Camilla — what is the meaning of this shape 
that is like nothing so much as a broken-backed 
cow — see it has a red line going through it in the 
direction of a man’s hand. Bah — who could win a 
battle with all this to remember! Give me a sword 
in my grip and something to cut at, and I warrant 
there shall be one the less in the world ere I am 
defeated. ” 

I glanced at the plan, which as Serafino said might 
be easy to comprehend by those who could under- 
314 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 


315 


Stand it, and must confess that if the capture of 
Bastia depended upon the plan being carried out by 
General Serafino, the town was never in a safer 
state than now. 

“Perhaps Cesario can help you,” I said, after a 
long look at the confused hues and letters. 

“Cesario is a fighting man,” growled Serafino, 
“but perchance the King has taken the pains to 
explain the plan to either him or Castineta. Heigh-ho — 
here am I in a golden uniform, expected to behave 
like a seasoned commander, when my wars have 
been only with a few rascally shirri and the 
hangman.” 

Whilst Serafino was lamenting thus, and there 
was no doubt sincerely, Cesario joined us, making 
a handsome figure in his tightly fitting uniform, for 
of dress and gaudy decorations King Theodore had 
brought with him an endless store. 

“ Look at this. Generalissimo, Count Cesario Arri- 
ghi,” shouted Serafino; giving his old comrade his 
full title with a ring in his voice, “I am left to 
decipher the meaning of a crippled animal, badly 
drawn, with a group of ghosts hanging to it by a 
red string, to say nothing of signs and letterings 
that would confuse the mind of any professor in 
Corsica. What is the purpose of the gibberish, and 
this straining of. my brains until I am as near being 
made mad as the eleventh son of the Emperor 
Jakilinikitis of Morocco, when his dinner was carried 
off by a jackal?” 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


316 

“It is an excellent plan of the proposed attack 
on Bastia, ” replied Cesario, not deigning to examine 
it closely, I observed. “ There are full directions 
for our guidance, Serafino, and the plan has been 
made under the King’s orders, by the skilfullest 
hands in the country.” 

“ I’ll have no more of it, ” exclaimed Serafino, 
“for already have I refused to join a merry party 
by reason of studying the plan, and think of what 
the miss of my presence means to others! ” 

“ The way to make the plan understood, ” replied 
Cesario, “ is to go over the ground ourselves, and 
it was to propose this that I have come here. We 
shall not have a better opportunity of doing so than 
this evening, so let us start at once. I will show 
you the King’s method and you wiU agree that it 
is the likeliest to succeed.” 

“This is reason,” cried Serafino, hastily fastening 
his sword belt, “that any plain, honest man can 
understand. Let me but see the place and manner 
of fighting, and I feel every drop of blood within 
me calling for my beginning the fray. Avaunt 
with your scribblings and plannings, and let us have 
a sight of the work to be done. I warrant you 
that the Roman Caesars trusted to nothing but their 
arms and valour, and think of what those warriors 
have done for the world!” 

“ No more than you would have done had the 
chance been given you, Serafino,” replied Cesario, 
“but we are wasting our time in chattering thus. 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 


317 


It will take an hour or longer to go through the busi- 
ness, therefore put the plan aside and begin something 
that even a duller brain than yours would understand. ” 

Serafino tossed the paper from him and we came 
out of the tent into the still evening air. Right 
and left lay the soldiers of the besieging army, 
around the embers of their camp fires, a murmur 
of talk coming softly; and away in the distance 
rose the sombre shadow of Bastia. From that and 
the hilly ground whereon the besiegers were encamped 
was a stretch of country, some two miles wide, 
through which ran a winding path between thicket- 
crowned hillocks that cast blots of black shadow as 
the moon climbed high through the dark blue 
heaven. Far off gleamed a streak of silver across 
the silent sea, and so peaceful was the scene that 
the fierce passions of men which had been spent in 
death and blood only a few days since, and burned 
sullenly still un glutted, were forgotten for the time. 
Not a sound broke the solemn quietude as we moved 
cautiously from the groups of resting men, passing 
the watchful sentries with a whispered word, and 
coming at length to the outposts, whom Cesario 
questioned swiftly before we moved forward beyond 
the lines of the encampment. 

“We begin from here,” said Cesario, coming to 
a sudden halt a few moments later. “Colonel Riva- 
rola’s men will be stationed at this point, so that 
in the event of the enemy advancing, a flank 
movement as a counter ” 


3i8 king for a summer. 

“For the love of Saint Crispino,” exclaimed Sera- 
fino, “confuse me no further with your flanks and 
counters. Tell me where the fighting will be and 
the thickest part of it — let me know that — and your 
flanks and counters, your masks and ambuscades 
may all be left to wiser heads than mine; for only 
one part of a battle know I, and that is to get 
within reach of your opponent, so that either you 
or he must be quieted and the matter settled. Let 
me be plain Serafino the soldier rather than the 
General this German Theodore has made me, and 
I shall die with a quiet conscience, having done all that 
a plain, well-meaning fighting man could do.” 

“But there is more than that expected from you, 
Serafino,” replied Cesario. “The men under your 
command speak of your bravery and skill. Let me 
further explain the nature of the forthcoming attack. ” 

“Let me further explain that it is all confusion 
to me already,” cried Serafino. “Give me plain 
fighting and your plans and counterplans may be 
left to those who made the maddening things. I 
would there were a chance of meeting the enemy 
at this moment, although there are but three of us 
to withstand them.” 

“Then I think you will have your wish, Serafino !” 
I exclaimed, for at the instant of his speaking I saw 
the black forms of some men move from the shadow 
of a thicket, and creep down to where across the 
more open country stretched the winding path white 
in the moonlight. Serafino was for following the 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 3ig 

moving figures immediately, but Cesario restrained 
him. 

“Wait an instant,” said the latter. “There is 
some mischief afoot, by the sight of those men yon- 
der, and we will watch their movements.” 

“ There are two figures coming from the direction 
of Bastia, ” I exclaimed. “ Spies, perhaps, and in 
league with the men before us.” 

“Follow me,” replied Cesario, beginning to move 
forward, Serafino going next after him. and I last; 
in which order we went in the deep shadow of some 
trees until gaining a position not far from the mys- 
terious body of men, from which we could see them 
indistinctly, as they stood as if awaiting the approach 
of the two travellers. These last were hurrying as 
though in haste to cover the distance between 
Bastia and the camp, and one of them limped in 
his walk, their figures casting gaunt shadows on the 
road. Then with a suddenness quite unexpected, 
the men who had remained partly concealed until 
now, sprang from their hiding place, and in an 
instant had surrounded the two men, from one of 
whom a piercing shriek of alarm broke the stillness. 
There was a confused movement, a flashing of sword 
blades in the moonlight, and the taller of the two 
men, limping backward, stood defending his life 
against his assailants valiantly. The other traveller 
had fallen to his knees, imploring mercy in tones 
which reached us and had a familiar sound. 

We said not a word, nor was any needed, for 


320 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


Serafino had rushed down the sloping ground, with 
Cesario close beside him, and in a moment later 
we were engaged in a desperate fight. Whom they 
might be we were defending mattered not, for it 
was plain that slaughter was imminent, and with a 
sweeping cut Serafino had sent one of the band 
reeling from the supplicating figure, and was fight- 
ing hand to hand with another. Bending a moment 
to rouse the kneeling man to lend us aid, for the 
odds were against us, I narrowly evaded a deadly 
blow from one of the infuriated men, and then there 
followed such a fierce battle that even Serafino owned 
himself satisfied with it later on. To and fro 
swayed the fray, and I knew that the fellow I had 
attempted to arouse had slipped away, screaming 
like a frightened woman, whilst through the wild 
tumult, the man who limped in his movements was 
fighting gallantly, Cesario aiding him, and that two of 
the foe lay helpless on the ground at their feet. 

Then Serafino and a man his equal in height and 
bulk had separated from the others, and I leaped 
nimbly aside, escaping a thrust which would have 
ended my part in the fight otherwise, and it seemed 
as though a pause had come, for I was given time 
to watch the encounter between Serafino and his 
opponent. With a cry of rage the latter had rushed 
through Serafino’s guard, and the two men swayed 
backward and forward, locked in a deadly embrace, 
until my companion tore himself free and went 
staggering a yard away with a dagger in his shoulder. 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 


321 


I Sprang to his rescue, but quick as was my move- 
ment, Serafino had recovered himself more rapidly, 
and I heard his teeth grind as he renewed the fight. 
Like a flash of lightning his sword glittered in the 
moonbeams, meeting his opponent’s, which splintered 
as though but glass, and Serafino’s blade cutting 
downward smote his enemy upon the wrist, severing 
the hand as cleanly off as one might cut a melon 
in twain. Yet even then the disabled fellow’s 
dauntless fury and courage were unsubdued, nay 
I should rather say increased, for although the spout- 
ing blood dyed his clothes black in the silvery 
light, he fought on, hissing out his fierce rage. 
“ Viva Vittoli, ” he shouted, and there ran to his 
side one of his companions, whom my sword greeted, 
and so much strength did I put into my thrust that 
the blade passed through the fellow’s side, and he went 
down in a groaning heap, dragging me with him. 

When I recovered my feet, Serafind was standing 
spent and breathless over the prostrate body of his 
foe, Cesario and the traveller he had so bravely 
defended and saved from death, having ended the 
fight triumphantly. Across the open ground fled 
the “Vittoli”, as I had discovered them to be, and 
a sudden silence had taken the place of trampling 
footsteps and fierce outcries of rage and pain. 

That Serafino was badly hurt I saw at a glance, 
and if it had not been for my assistance he would 
have fallen, whilst crouching like a whipped dog 
at his feet was the cowardly fellow for whose sake 


21 


322 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


my companion had shed his blood. I was regarding 
the miserable wretch, meaning to upbraid him for 
his fear and timidity, when I heard Cesario give a 
strange cry of surprise. He had started backward 
from the stranger, and whilst I looked at them the 
moonlight fell full upon the white face of Fabiani 
Brasco. 

“ It is you whom I have saved then ! ” and Cesario’s 
voice had a harsh sound in it. “ Yet I shall keep 
my oath. Signor Brasco, ” and then a whimper came 
from the crouching figure, as with a shout loud enough 
for all his weakness Serafino recognised in the 
grovelling man, the notary of Corte. 

“I would I had been a thousand miles off when 
King Theodore forced that oath upon his followers, ” 
muttered Serafino. “ But now that your life has 
been saved, tell me what evil spirit has brought 
you and your friend here ? ” 

“We have escaped from Bastia,” gasped Signor 
Poll, “ and with Signor Brasco, I am on my way 
to offer m)/ services to King Theodore." 


CHAPTER XXXIIL 


FABIANI EXPLAINS. 

F or a moment or two the effects of the fight 
vanished before the conflicting emotions that 
seized me at this meeting with the men to 
whom my friends and I owed so many of our mis- 
fortunes and perils. Fabiani remained at a little 
distance, regarding me intently; and as if fearing 
to trust his own speech, Cesario turned from his 
old enemy to speak in a whisper with Seraflno. 
Signor Poli drew himself to the side of his com- 
panion, and then for a little interval of silence we 
who had so strangely met, remained upon the scene 
of the encounter, midway between the sombre shadow 
of Bastia and the besieging army of King Theo- 
dore ; but Serafino’s voice suddenly roused me from 
my posture of surprise. 

“ Lend me that sound body of yours, Signor 
Notary,” he growled, “for it is the only one which 
has escaped unhurt, and help me get back to my 
tent. To think it is for you I have fought, and 
saved from death you who have deserved it these 
ten years, is a martyrdom to me, but it has to be 


324 


KING FOR A SUMMER, 


borne. 1 have given my promise — come hither, 
villain — and it is a promise not to be broken — 
nay, have no fear, brave scribbler of deeds and 
mischief, — I vowed to forgive my enemies — why, 
you are trembling like a frightened child — and so 
you are forgiven; outwardly that is, for ” 

“Noble champion of distress,” interrupted the 
notary, who had stepped forward, and upon whose 
shoulder Serafino was leaning heavily, “ I pray you 
let bygones be bygones, for never yet have I thought 
to do you an ill service. It fills me with grief to 
think your helping me has brought you these dread- 
ful wounds, yet have I a remedy for such, and 
never has it failed. And to you. Signor Arrighi, 
and the young man Negroni whom I would fain 
rejoice over, if your mighty weight, valiant Serafino, 
did not wellnigh overbear my weakness of body, 
which an ague, caught from a damp wig, has brought 
about, I vow that ” 

“And I vow also,” interrupted Serafino in turn, 
“ that I shall speedily forget my vow, and strangle 
thee, most honourable notary, if thy tongue does 
not cease wagging. Help me to get back to the 
camp, and keep your remedies to yourself; I am 
confident they would be more harmful than a dozen 
sword scratches ! ” And the two men moved slowly 
from us. 

Fabiani limped beside me as we followed, and 
for a pace or two neither of us spoke. Cesario 
walked apart, not deigning to look at nor speak 


FABIANI EXPLAINS. 


325 


to my kinsman, and it .was thus that smarting and 
fatigued we went from the spot, leaving three of 
our enemies on the ground. 

“Camilla,” and Fabiana whispered hoarsely in 
my ear as he toiled painfully along. “ I have many 
slanderers and foes who may have spoken untruth- 
fully of me to you. I ask you to believe me when 
I say that I have done you no wrong.” 

“Yet you witnessed against me in Bastia,” I 
replied. “ It was you and Teodor who brought my 
life in danger. How can I forget that?” 

“ I spoke thus to save you, ” he answered, “ and 
Teodor for the same purpose. Without I had done 
so, you and Cesario Arrighi would have been 
executed as spies before daybreak, but the governor, 
upon learning that I was acquainted with you 
resolved upon your being further examined. Through 
me, you and Arrighi escaped from your prison.” 

“ But at the gate of Bastia you attempted our 
recapture,” I retorted bitterly. 

“ It was a pretence only, ” he answered vehe- 
mently. “ You had been discovered, and I created 
the confusion in order that you might the easier 
escape. I am glad that the chance has been given 
me of explaining these matters to you.” 

“And will Cesario believe this?” I asked. 

“ Bah, what matter if he doubt me, ” replied my 
cousin. “He has saved my life, and our enmity 
is buried. His revenge is complete.” 

I was in no mood to argue with him, nor to ask 


326 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

further questions, but I resolved to do so when we 
reached the camp and had recovered from the 
effects of our desperate fight, that were telling their 
tale in each of us, except the notary who had kept 
aloof from the struggle. The outposts were reached 
and the sentries passed before Fabiani spoke again, 
as he looked in wonder at the lines of soldiers. 

The Genoese have scoffed at King Theodore 
and his army, ” he said, “ but they would speak 
differently if they were with us, Camilla. I am 
here to offer what aid I can, by deeds and money, 
to this gallant king of our country,” and Fabiani 
raised his cap as he spoke. 

There was no help for it but that I should offer 
him the shelter of the little tent which I occupied, 
and this I did. Signor Poli begged for a night’s 
covering, declaring that although Serafino had asked 
him to share his, the, risk was too great for the 
notary to accept the proposal. 

“ There is no telling what madness may not 
possess the gallant Serafino presently,” said Signor 
Poli, “ and already I have been within the reach of 
his arm. I was enquiring for his companion, 
Massoni, who formerly played the tune to which I 
danced. ” 

“I recollect,” I answered, as the notary crouched 
against my tent pole. “It was when your stock- 
ings were scorched.” 

“It was naught but the merriment of your friends,” 
replied he cheerfully, but I heard him growl some- 


FABIANI EXPLAINS. 


327 


thing beside. “And I would like to shake hands 
with Massoni. Said the noble Serafino, ‘It will be 
a dangerous thing to do, for Massoni is free from 
this oath that binds me; and so beware of him.*” 

“There is a talk of Massoni coming to the camp,” 
I answered, “when he is sufficiently recovered; so 
prepare yourself. Signor Poli. It will be something 
more than a pair of scorched legs to fear when 
Massoni sees you'. Why do you not return to 
Corte?” 

“I have a reason for keeping away from Corte,” 
replied the notary crossly. “There is a person there 
whom I dread more than this meeting with Massoni. 
I can reason with him, maybe, but not His Holiness 
the Pope could do that with the mad woman I am 
speaking of. No, I shall remain in the service of 
my king — he will find me more useful than a 
regiment of ordinary men.” 

The time was not yet ripe for me to question 
him about my own affairs, and the share he had 
had in robbing me. I must first let Nasone know 
that Poli and my kinsman had come thus into my 
company again, and I began to look about for a 
way of giving Nasone the information, and for his 
advising me; but just at the present moment, to 
get a message so far as Ajaccio seemed impossible. 
Martin Chicheley had not returned, nor had any 
news come from him, although some weeks had 
elapsed since his leaving Cervione, and I began to 
despair of ever seeing his merry face again. 


328 


KING FOR A SUMMER* 


Fabiani and Signor Poli made themselves very 
comfortable in my tent, and I went to Serafino’s, 
begging a share of his. 

“I distrust the company in mine,” I said; “for 
all the notary’s politeness. It is only because he fears 
us that he does not rail at you and me.” 

“Wait until Massoni hears of this,” growled Sera- 
fino, “and Signor Poli will have something to dread 
in earnest. The news will bring Massoni from a 
sick-bed even.” 

“But my cousin says they have come to offer 
the King their services, Serafino,” I answered. 

“Well, we shall see what the end of the aflfaii 
will be,” he replied. “King Theodore is coming to 
the camp in a few days, and perchance Fabiani and 
his comrade have intelligence of the greatest im- 
portance. They have been traitors to Corsica once, 
and I see no reason why they should not be 
traitors to the Genoese.” 

Whilst he was speaking Cesario came into the 
tent, looking more serious than I had ever seen him 
look before. 

“ Did your cousin say anything of his son to you, 
Camilla ? ” he asked me abruptly. 

“Not a word,” I answered, “and that seems a 
strange thing. ’ 

“ He would hardly have left him in Bastia, ” con- 
tinued Cesario. “ The danger would have been too 
great for Teodor when his father’s flight had been 
discovered.” 


FABIANI EXPLAINS. 


329 


“I will go now and ask after Teodor,” I cried, 
getting up slowly, for my wounds smarted sadly, 
“and you shall hear what answer I get.” So I 
went back to my little tent, to find Fabiani and the 
notary busily engaged over some papers which the 
latter thrust into his pocket at my approach. In 
reply to my question Fabiani’s face wrinkled into 
a smile. 

“Teodor has gone to Ajaccio,” he told me. “ He 
started a few days since, and if nothing has hindered 
him, he is ending some business which he had with 
Emanuel Matra.” 

“In Ajaccio r I exclaimed surprised. “I under- 
stand now why you sent him there instead of doing 
the business yourself, kinsman. Nasone would not 
have given you a very friendly greeting.” 

“ Bah ! ” exclaimed Fabiani scornfully. “ I have 
no fear of Nasone; he is an obstinate fool, but harm- 
less. Is it not so, Poli ? ” 

“ The young man Teodor can manage the old 
imbecile, as one can mould wax,” answered the 
notary, “yet you forget. Signor Brasco, that there 
is another part of your son’s business to be done in 
Ajaccio. Signor Vico, the farmer, and his daughter 
will welcome Teodor. The farmer has hired a little 
house hard by Ajaccio, and without doubt Teodor 
lingers there yet.” And when the notary ended 
this speech with a giggling laugh, I felt very much 
inclined to flog him. There was a vague dread at 
my heart, of danger hovering over Martin Chicheley, 


330 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


and that Signor Poli knew more than he was inclined 
to say. However, I left the pair in the tent, and 
took the news to Cesario, with whom I talked long 
after Serafino had fallen asleep. 

“ The King’s return will show the true complexion 
of this affair,” said my companion. “ I trust it may 
turn out for his welfare, for already there are rumours 
of disloyalty amongst Theodore’s followers, and 
some of them have fallen away from their vows 
to him.” 

“What does this going of Teodor to Ajaccio 
mean ? ” I asked presently. 

“ Time will prove,” answered Cesario, with a glance 
in the direction of my tent which hid his mortal 
foe from sight, and then we followed Serafino’s 
example and were soon asleep. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A MYSTERIOUS SUMMONS. 

I N due time the King rejoined his army, riding 
into camp at the head of a gay cavalcade, and 
more finely dressed than usual. Gialferi, Paoli, 
and another gentleman named Luca Omano, were 
beside him, and Theodore riding up before the sol- 
diers who stood at the salute, made a speech full 
of spirit and hope. The sun glittered on the arms 
that he had brought with him in the ship, and never 
before had braver men handled gun or sword than 
those who raised a ringing cheer as King Theodore, 
fresh from his visit to the interior of the island, 
rode down the ranks of his army. The gentleman 
whom I have named Luca Ornano, had received the 
monarch with an embassy of the principal men in 
that part of Corsica, by whom Theodore had been 
led in triumph to a town called Sartene, and there 
an order of knighthood had been founded by the 
king. They were all knights of a day’s growth, it may 
be said, who rode with Theodore, and a dozen more 
of his chief men were to receive the honour. 

When Theodore had retired to his quarters I 
331 


33^ KING FOR A SUMMER. 

ventured to him, and maybe because it was that I 
never begged a favour, nor asked for a gift, he 
always seemed pleased to receive me. He appeared 
to step down from the height he occupied in the 
presence of his courtiers and councillors and became 
the plain man he was in reality, one beset moreover 
by a thousand troubles and dangers, which were 
never far from him. King though he was. 

“There have come two men into the camp from 
Bastia,” I told him, after he had asked some trivial 
questions. “ One of them is a kinsman of mine, and 
the other a notary named Poli, from Corte. There 
are men better fitted to be trusted than they.* 

“Corte!” repeated Theodore reflectively, as he 
stood holding his chin between his finger and thumb. 
“We had a mad woman petition us when the court 
passed through Corte. It was that we should deliver 
a certain man, named Poli, into her hands, and 
being minded to favour our subjects in even such 
a trifling affair as this, we told the mad woman to 
follow us to Cervione, and if this master of hers were to 
be found, against whom she has a grievance it seems, 
he should then and there be called to give an account 
of himself. This Poli then is the very creature?” 

“The same man. Sire,” I answered, and King 
Theodore gave a little laugh. 

“I am inclined to pity the fellow,” he said, “but 
there are other things beside these to be considered 
just now. We hold a court to-morrow, and those 
who have served their country and king so bravely 


A MYSTERIOUS SUMMONS. 


333 


are to be rewarded. There are to be twelve knight- 
hoods conferred, and these are to be freely bestowed. 
Others who have received the honour paid each a 
hundred scudi. We doubt whether such a sum could 
be raised though the twelve new knights made one 
amount of their monies.” 

I doubted too, for Cesario had told me only that 
day of the dire poverty which existed in the army, 
and how difficult it was for anyone to buy even 
the most trifling luxury. However, I kept silence 
about this, and the King went on talking in a weary 
manner of what he hoped might be the result of 
his struggle in the cause of his kingdom. I can 
see him now, divested of his gorgeous trappings, 
lying back on the straw mattress which was on 
the ground in his tent, having nothing kingly about 
him, except his pompous talk and the commanding 
tone he used. And I have cause to recollect that 
occasion, for it was the last upon which King 
Theodore and I were to speak to each other for a long 
time, being, moreover, the eve of greater dangers and 
troubles to myself than I had yet encountered. 

The next day the King in the midst of his army 
conferred the honour of knighthood upon his faithful 
followers. Twelve of these were drawn up apart 
from the gathering of the others and with King 
Theodore were those whr- had come to the camp 
in his train. I watched .tiese men very closely, 
and for all their homage to him, there was an air 
of discontent in their faces, and a gloomy dissatis- 


334 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


faction prevailed. Not, however, amongst the simple- 
hearted fellows who were proud of being singled 
out thus for distinction, amongst whom was Serafino, 
who stood first of the group, with a bandage here 
and there upon him where he had been wounded in 
the fray with the “ Vittoli.” The sun shone brightly, 
flags waved in the gentle breeze, the ranks of soldiers 
spread on either side of the big square into which 
the army had been mustered, and a chair covered 
with a scarlet cloth stood ready for the King, who 
came out from his ragged tent at the head of 
his courtiers presently. King Theodore wore his 
laurel crown, and held his sceptre royally: his tin- 
selled robe swept the grass and his costume was 
more beautiful than I have power to describe; 
but he was ill at ease in spite of all this magnifi- 
cence. There had been a council held that morning, 
and a troublesome matter discussed, so Cesario told 
me, and that the King was to make a speech to 
his subjects thereon, after the ceremony of knighting 
had been gone through. 

There were so many incidents connected with 
that memorable morning when King Theodore of 
Corsica bestowed honours thus broadcast on simple 
soldiers, who hitherto had been nothing greater 
than tillers of the soil, shepherds, and as in the case of 
Serafino those who had been banned by the law and 
driven to seek their living amongst the mountains, and 
were it not that I have events more intimately as- 
sociated with myself to set down, I would describe 


A MYSTERIOUS SUMMONS. 


335 


the ceremony at greater length than 1 do here. 
Suffice it to say then, that the first to be knighted 
was Serafino, who went limping up to the seat, 
where the King received him with a longer speech 
than was to Serafino’s liking; but it ended at last, 
and if the newly made knight had not stumbled in 
rising from his knees — being wounded as it may be 
remembered — and in saving himself clutched at the 
dwarfish drummer who was never far off from His 
Majesty, the ceremony would have wanted nothing 
to complete its solemnity. As it was, however, 
Serafino, “Knight of the Golden Cross,” as the 
order was called, and the elf-like drummer rolled 
over in the dust together, and those who stood 
around the King laughed for the first and only 
time that day. 

“ A pest on the noisy little imp ! ” shouted Sera- 
fino, getting up with the aid of a friend. “ He is 
for ever in the way, and I am minded to fasten 
him inside his own goatskin drum out of sight for 
his interference with me.” 

The drummer was as angry as he, however, 
abusing him roundly, but being no more than the 
weight of a feather, Serafina tossed him amongst 
the crowd, drum and all, and there we heard his 
squeaking voice until somebody silenced it, for the 
King had begun his speech to us. 

“ There are, ” said he, in a voice that all could 
hear, “ those of our faithful subjects whose trials 
and labours in our cause are ever in our recollection. 


336 


KING fOK A SUMMER. 


It is to them and to you that we speak words of 
hope and confidence, and to the few who are dis- 
affected, if they be here this day, that your loyalty 
to us may be increased and their doubts and dis- 
affection removed. A fleet of ships, bearing stores 
and all manner of arms, ammunition, foods, and 
necessities, will reach Corsica before the end of 
October, and upon our kingly word, before you all, 
we promise to resign our crown and kingdom, if 
this fleet fail in so appearing. It is for you to 
depose us from our throne, whilst it is for your King 
to ceaselessly maintain the rights and privileges of 
every Corsican, and in this fashion we leave the 
issues to Providence.*' 

He raised himself to his full height, giving a wide 
sweep with his sceptre in the air, and a cheer arose 
from every throat in the ranks of the brave army. 

Cesario who stood at my side whispered in my ear. 

“One would never guess the danger that the 
King is in,” he said, “nor that the revolt against 
him is growing every hour. He is surrounded by 
enemies, and this kingdom of his is not more real 
than the mirage. Look, Camilla — your cousin Fabiani 
is bowing before the King, and the notary is behind 
his fellow-rogue.” 

I glanced swiftly, seeing my cousin bending 
respectfully in front of His Majesty, to whom he 
had been brought by one of the royal chamberlains, 
and the sight angered me. However, I resolved 
to profit by Fabiani’s coming to the Court, for the 


A MYSTERIOUS SUMMONS. 


337 


King should know of his wrong-doings toward me 
and give me justice, even though I did not regain 
my inheritance thereby. 

There was to be a feast that evening, and to 
this I had received an invitation from the King 
himself, and I remember the look of friendliness 
and trust with which he spoke. “You are one,” 
said he, “ in whom I see a friend, Camilla Negroni. 

I cannot say that of every man. It is you who 
will ever do me service, and the time may come 
when this trust in you will be tested.” He little 
foresaw how and when I should prove the meaning , 
ot those words of his, nor did I, but the time came 
m due course. And I observed how upon that 
single occasion it was that the King spoke of him- 
self as “I” and not as “We”, as he did usually, 
as became a royal personage. 

What Fabiani said at this introduction to the 
King, or afterwards, I do not know, but His Majesty 
cast a searching look upon me as my cousin spoke, 
and the notary turned his eyes heavenward in his 
hateful fashion. Soon after this the gathering dis- 
persed, and I went with Serafino to his tent, where 
I remained some little time. There was nothing to 
do, and I loitered aimlessly through the camp after 
leaving Serafino, thinking over a thousand things, 
and so wiling the hours away before I should attend 
to the King, which it would be my duty to do 
presently. 

It was as I turned in the direction ot the camp, 


22 


338 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


having strolled from it a little distance, that a letter 
was brought me by one of the soldiers by whom 
I was known, and who said that the letter had come 
by the hand of a peasant. I opened it hastily and 
read it. 

“ If you would recover your inheritance and defeat 
the plot of your enemies, join me without delay at 
the house of Costini the herdsman, which is between 
Corte and Cervione, a half day’s journey from ^ the 
camp. Let none know of your coming. ” And the 
letter was signed: “Emanuel Matra.” 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

SNARED 1 

I READ the letter twice over, trying vainly to 
fathom its full meaning, two things only appear- 
ing plain to me, namely that Nasone had found 
means of doing me a very great service, and that 
he had chosen to meet me away from all chance 
of our being interfered with by Fabiani or his 
agents. Placing the letter in my pocket I hastened 
in search of Cesario, to whom in spite of Nasone’s 
directions to maintain secrecy I would show the 
letter; but although I looked everywhere for my 
companion, he was not to be found. The recollec- 
tion of my having to attend at the King’s banquet 
had fled from my mind, and only the thought that 
already Nasone might be eagerly awaiting my going 
to him remained. The evening shadows were be- 
ginning to gather, and each moment seemed of the 
greatest importance to me; I remembered no longer 
my purpose of questioning Fabiani and Signor Poll, 
but hastened back to my tent, where throwing on 
a cloak to shield me from the night dew, and 
arming myself with a sword and stiletto, I quitted 

339 


340 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


the camp. I would have spoken to Serafino, but 
he, like Cesario, seemed to have vanished ; and pausing 
only to leave a hastily written word or two on a 
morsel of paper which I found half trodden in the 
grass, stating that I had gone to the house of 
Costini the swineherd, whom th(?y might know or 
not (I considered not an instant over that), I passed 
with a rapid step beyond the limits of the encampment, 
and was soon alone amidst the solemn quietude of 
the countryside. To see Nasone ; to learn the news he 
must certainly have for me, to gather evidence against 
my cousin, and regain my patrimony, were the only 
thoughts in my mind as I climbed a steep ascent, and 
descending the other side of this, the sight of King 
Theodore’s army was hidden, and I was alone. 

The country through which I was passing had a 
familiar look for all that it was my first journey 
into that part of it. The road leading to Corte, 
or at least to one which did, wound in and out 
between the hills, easily to be traced, and afar off 
like a beacon rose the glowing white , summit of 
Monte Rotondo, which appeared almost close by, 
although I judged it to be a dozen miles distant or 
further. Not a fear nor doubt had I of missing my 
road, and with a blither heart than I had carried 
for many a day I walked steadily onward, wishing 
only that Martin Chicheley were with me. That 
thought rather dulled my high spirits, for try as I 
might, the fear of harm having happened to him, 
was growing into certainty almost. 


SNARED ! 


341 


Darker and darker grew the night, shutting out 
the view on either side of me, yet leaving still the 
glowing mountain tops in full daylight; but these 
by swift degrees — the lower ones first disappearing, 
as lights upon the altar of a church are extinguished — 
faded in the gathering gloom. The night breeze 
moaned as though aroused to sullenness after the 
rest of the burning day, and the chilling mist came 
rolling through the valley to which I had come. 
The thickets and clustering trees took forbidding 
shapes, and not a sound save the hum of the wind 
broke the silence; and not until I had gained mid- 
way through the valley was it that I heard a curious 
rustling, which caused me to start and listen. Then 
came the soft tread of footsteps, and a pebble, 
loosened by being trodden upon, rolled with a trickling 
noise down the slope of the hill, whereupon I sprang 
aside into the black shadow of a tree, waiting with 
my hand on my swoVd hilt, for whatever might be 
about to happen. 

Suddenly a flash of light leaped out from a thicket 
upon the side of the road opposite to me, and some 
half dozen men, clad in coats of skin and armed 
with gun and sword, came in view. Villainous 
looking fellows they were too, with their shaggy 
locks matted together, giving their faces a more 
ferocious look than is possible to describe. In the 
sheen of light I saw their eyes glitter as the men 
came down on to the road, and then one of them 
spoke. 


342 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“ One ought to come up with the lad hereabouts, ” 
he said. “ Say that he left the camp at the hour 
named, he should be close here by now, ” and holding 
the lantern above his head he peered carefully along 
the road I had just traversed. 

“ Maybe he has walked too quickly, ” said another 
of the fellows, “ and we have missed him. ” 

“ It is not a likely thing, ” replied the first speaker, 
with an angry ejaculation, and the sharp stretch of 
light from the lantern was turned so that it fell 
upon the grassy bank not a yard away from where 
I crouched in the shadow of the trees. Slowly the 
light travelled toward me, and then was full on my 
face, blinding me for an instant, in which a scream 
of mocking laughter rang out from the ruffianly 
band, whilst before I could offer the slightest resist- 
ance two of the men had thrown themselves upon 
me, pinioning my arms. 

“ So the bird is finely snared at last, ” croaked 
one of those who remained in the road. “ A goodly 
business this — worth how much did you say, Diavolo 
mio? The share is how much a-piece?” 

“ Keep your senseless tongue quiet, ” growled the 
leader of the band. “ Wait until the work is finished 
before asking the price for it.” 

“The work would be sooner ended, and easier,” 
replied the ruffian who had asked the question, “if 
the youngster were quieted with a dagger thrust.” 
And when I heard him speak thus, either the anger 
I felt or the fear that his advice might be followed. 







Back to the tree I stood with my sword at guard. 


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SNARED ! 


343 


compelled me to give such a vigorous wrench that 
I freed myself from the grasp of the two ruffians, and 
back to the tree I stood, with my sword at guard. 

A savage oath escaped the leader of the band, 
who springing forward, let drop the lantern, 
and I felt the point of my sword sink deeply into 
the thick flesh of his thigh. And then in the dark- 
ness I cut and thrust at my enemies, hearing their 
blades clanging around and over me against the 
tree stem, and feeling hot breath in my face as 
one of the fellows grappled my throat, choking the 
power of further fighting out of me. I was thrown 
like a log to the earth, and in a moment or two 
bound too securely for them to fear more harm from 
my struggles, and I heard a word of command 
given. Lifting my helpless body, with no more 
heed than if it had been a dead sheep’s, the band 
began moving quickly, and the lantern having been 
relighted it enabled me to see the leader of the 
ruffians binding up his wounded leg as he hobbled 
along, and that sight was the only recompense I had 
for the rough usage I had been subjected to. 

I was carried thus for a mile or more, my bearers 
being changed once or twice, each time with angry 
curses upon me, for the trouble I had given, and 
then at last I began to recognise the road by which 
we travelled. I cannot quite explain how I did this, 
but now and again the sight of the hillside, or 
the clustering of trees, seen dimly in the faint light 
of the moon, came as though it were a sight I had 


344 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


seen previously. The road was rising-, and as we 
came out from the gloom of an olive ground, the 
scene became more familiar than before, and catch- 
ing a glimpse of the steep ascent I saw beyond it 
the black mass of a square building, gaunt and 
lonely in the moonbeams. Then the white of a steep 
flight of steps, and with a cry of despair I recog- 
nised my cousin Fabiani Brasco’s deserted house 
standing before us. Not a light showed through 
its dismal upper windows, and the mattress shutters 
of the lower ones were as I recollected seeing them 
last. Not a sound disturbed the stillness that 
reigned, except the grinding footsteps of my cap- 
tors upon the rough path; and without a word the 
leader of the band went heavily up the stairway, 
opening the house door, and after him came the 
other rufiians, who carried me into the flagged 
passage where I was allowed to stand on my feet 
once again. Then the door was shut and bolted, 
and the leader, frowning horribly at me from under 
his shaggy brows, ordered me to ascend to the upper- 
most room in the house. 

“It would be more to my liking were I to spit 
you like a fowl,” he hissed out. “My leg smarts 
as though a hot knife were searing it. But it is 
not to be yet, this revenge of mine, although it 
will come.” 

“What reason have you for bringing me here? ” 
I demanded, facing him angrily. 

“ The best of reasons, young crower,” he grinned. 


SNARED ! 


345 


“but not to be told you. Time enough to learn 
the reasons will be given you, so rest you content, 
and get to the room, else I shall be tempted to end 
your talk.” 

I was minded to continue it, however, but at a 
signal some of the band hustled me from the passage, 
forcing me up the well remembered stairs until I 
was thrust into a room that Fabiani had used for 
his sleeping place. It was empty of furniture now, 
however, and the window had been covered by a 
stout piece of timber, barred and bolted into the 
wall, so that it would have defied a stronger force 
than mine to remove the covering. 

There I was left, in darkness, the door strongly 
fastened upon me so as to be impossible for my open- 
ing it, and for long dreary hours I heard the sounds 
of movements and the words of singing coming 
faintly from below. Sleep I could not, for my brain 
was on fire with mingled anger and foreboding, to- 
gether with vain imaginings as to what fresh crimes 
my kinsman Fabiani Brasco might have in store 
against me. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

MY COUSIN’S VILLAINY. 

I SUPPOSE sleep overcame me, for I remember 
seeing a streak of light creep through a chink 
in the window cover presently, and knew that 
another day had dawned. I was parched with 
thirst, and the close air of the room hardly allowed 
me to draw breath, whilst the fierce anger against 
Fabiani Brasco burned within me like fire. The 
light was not sufficient for me to see clearly the 
place in which I was a prisoner, and I sat considering 
the situation to which I had been brought. That 
evil was intended against me, force and violence 
used again, and that my cousin would not shrink 
from murdering me, I felt assured. But these 
thoughts availed only to increase the torment I was 
in, and getting to my feet I tried once more, as I 
had tried last night, to burst open the barred door. 
Yet though I bruised and cut my hands in the 
attempt, it was fruitless, and after a time the vain 
effort was relinquished. 

Then I began watching the streak of light, as it 
travelled like a pointing rod of gold from one side 
346 


MY COUSIN’S VILLAINY. 


347 


of the room to the other, very slowly, the moats 
dancing in it, giving me an interest that was but 
another trial of my patience. To and fro moved 
the atoms, and in the perfect silence that prevailed, 
it seemed to me as though they hummed a familiar air 
which I had heard long ago, although when I 
listened, straining my ear to catch the rhythm of 
it, nothing but the dead silence returned, and with 
it the torturing thirst. 

Inch by inch, now tripping as it were over a 
bending of the panelled wall, and then evenly where 
the woodwork was smooth, vrent the yellow beam, 
until when I was lulled into indifference by watch- 
ing it, the sunlight appeared to pause, sinking into 
a narrow slit in the wall. Only for a moment or 
two, however, for the bright rays moved on, com- 
ing again to another slit, and the thought flashed 
through me that the marks were those of another 
opening from the room. In a moment I had reached 
the wall, passing my hand over its surface, and my 
fingers traced the marks shown by the shaft of light, 
up and down, and across, finding a square space, 
a foot or more in height and width, forming a door. 
With a sudden rising of hope within me I had my 
grasp on this and before another minute, wrenched 
it open. There was a space beyond in which I 
could distinguish nothing, but the opening was large 
enough for me to thrust my head and arm through, 
my hand searching the direction in which the open- 
ing might lead. Alas, it was nothing but a shallow 


348 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


receptacle, forming a cunningly devised cupboard; 
and I struggled free from it, but as I did this my 
hand touched a small bundle of papers. This I drew 
out and allowing the thin stream of light to fall on it, 
read the name of “ Camilla Negroni ” whilst above 
in smaller letters was my father’s name. I thrust 
the bundle into my breast hastily, for there was 
the sound of the bolts and lock on my prison door 
being unfastened, and stepping to the further end 
of the room I waited defenceless against whoever 
might be my mortal foe. Then the door was 
opened, letting in daylight, and I saw the thin 
white face of Signor Poli. He remained, eyeing 
me thoughtfully for a moment, and then beckoned 
with a curious movement of his head. 

“ I have come on the most peaceful errand ever 
heard,” he began, trying to speak as though at his 
ease, “ and there is no need for the use of sword, 
firearms, or stiletto. You have been instructed in 
the use of weapons, therefore I wish to disarm you 
with fair words.” 

“I have no weapons,” I answered. “You are 
safe, but before we begin talking let me get out 
of this horrible room. Why have I been taken 
prisoner?” 

I suppose I spoke roughly, for he skipped back to 
the doorway and gave a hasty look outside it. 

“You have been preserved from a greater hard- 
ship, my good youth,” replied the notary, “ by being 
brought here. It was your worthy cousin’s plan, 


MY COUSINS VILLAINY. 


349 


believe me, and it is he who has sent me hither as 
an ambassador, as one might call me, with propo- 
sals for an honourable peace.” 

“ I guessed the first part of your speech, ” I 
answered bitterly, “ but what business you can have 
with me I know not.” 

“ Peace, ” replied Signor Poli. “ Keep that word 
in your mind, although I have known but little of 
its meaning myself since employing the services of 
the fiercest woman in Corsica to keep my house in 
Corte. And now let us put down in order the 
chief items of this business of mine, which are, 
firstly, to release you from bondage. Secondly 
to do my good friend Signor Fabiani Brasco a 
great service ; thirdly to procure a favour from you, 
and finally, the success of the foregoing assured, 
to save your life, Camilla Negroni.” 

He stood, checking his chief items off on the 
tips of his fingers, and nodding at me each time 
he did this ; and I made a rush for the door, thrust- 
ing him aside. I had reached the opening, when 
I was suddenly brought to bay by the sight of two 
of the armed ruffians by whom I had been captured 
overnight. Signor Poli, watching with his head 
round the doorpost, gave a gentle laugh in my dis- 
mayed face, and I saw that escape was hopeless. 

“ It will be so much pleasanter for you if we 
discuss the business quietly,” he said. “I have a 
most cheering message from your cousin to you.” 

“He might have chosen a braver man than you 


350 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


to bring it,*^ I answered. “But you will serve to 
carry one from me to him. Say that I have 
discovered his villainy and how cruelly he has 
wronged me.’* 

“ Signor Brasco would resent such a message, ” 
cried the notary, “and we waste time in talking 
thus. Yet allowing that he has done all this, and 
the law requires proof, also that it was by his 
order that you have been brought here — but this 
I would argue with any lawyer in Corsica as to 
the truth of it — he has also sent me here to give 
you freedom. And that by your own action, which 
is to sign a docket, the which to do more readily 
I have brought ink, pen, and sand, knowing the 
dearth of such things in this ghost-haunted house, 
which it will delight me to quit so soon as you have 
placed your sign manual — so the words go— 
upon this same, docket agreement, testament or 
indenture — as it may please you to call it.” 

“And if I refuse to sign the writing?” I asked, 
whereat Signor Poli shrugged his shoulders. 

“ It is very lonely here, none know of your being 
in the house, there are none to enquire the reason 
for your disappearance — the times are dangerous 
and men vanish from sight every day, and such 
will be your case, my young friend,” he answered. 
“ In a word, that I would only whisper, you will 
be a dead man within a day of my leaving you, 
unless you sign the paper. That is a clear statement — 
clear as the writing on a parchment. Think of itl” 


MY cousin’s villainy. 


351 


^ Fabiani will cause me to be murdered, you mean, 
Signor Poli?” and he shrugged his shoulders again, 
yet not answering me this time. 

“ That was his purpose in sending a letter signed 
by Emanuel Matra to me,” I cried, longing to seize 
the notary by the throat, for he had laughed in my 
face the second time. 

“ He is a shrewd man, ” he replied, “ and the 
letter appears to have had a good result. But 
come — tell me whether you will place your hand 
to this” — and he held out a folded paper. 

What the purpose of obtaininr , my signature 
might have been, and what need tnere was for my 
cousin to force it from me, I did not pause to ask. 
My anger seemed to drive every other thought from 
my mind as I saw the notary’s evil look watching 
me and his hand holding out the paper. With a 
sudden bound I was upon him, and although he 
divined my intent and evaded it I succeeded in 
grasping his coat, the bow of his wigtail being in 
my hand too, and with a screech of alarm Signor 
Poli had escaped, leaving his wig and a fragment 
of coat in my clutch. The door was thrown to 
and securely bolted, and with the fading gleam of 
light I was alone again. I heard a laugh and the hasty 
movement of footsteps, but these vanished quickly, 
and the heavy silence was over me once more. 

How I passed the night I cannot say, but some- 
how sleep overcame me, and the light shot in upon 
the second morning of my imprisonment, and with 


352 


KING FOR A SUMMER* 


it I heard footsteps approaching the room. Then 
the door was flung open and the fellow who had 
commanded the band came in, having a knife in 
his hand. 

“ Short work is best with you,” he growled, “and 
there is more to be done than keeping guard here, 
so the order given me shall be executed forthwith.’ 
And as he said this with a fiendish glare in his 
eyes, the ruffian moved toward me, as I retreated 
to a corner. Another instant and I doubt not but 
his knife would have done its work, but as he ad- 
vanced I saw a faint chance of escape. He was 
close to me, holding out one strong hand to grasp 
my clothes, and holding the knife in the other, 
ready to strike the fatal blow, when I rushed for- 
ward, striking him in the face, whilst as he recoiled 
I had reached the door, and running for my life, 
was down the staircase before he could recover his 
voice, to yell after me. 

The house door stood ajar, and the fresh air came 
blowing in through it; I was on the topmost step 
of the steep flight of stairs, free at last, and then I 
felt a grasp on my arm. I gave one look round 
to see the hairy face of another of my jailors, and then 
I and he were rolling down the steps together. 

It had all happened so quickly that I can tell no 
more of the manner in which I escaped than by this 
brief description ; but I seemed to come to my senses 
as I lay a moment with a sharp pain in my shoulder, 
and the man who had fallen also, kneeling over 


MY COUSIN'S VILLAINY. 


353 


me, spluttering out an angry word or two, with 
the blood streaming from a cut in his forehead. 
At the top of the steps was the man who had been 
in the room, and he came hobbling down the stairs, 
brandishing his knife. I tried to rise, but the ruffian 
kneeling at my side, held me down — the hobbling 
man had reached to within a yard of us, and then 
it was that clear out on the air, like a trumpet 
note came the shout, “ Camilla, anoy 1 ” and it was 
Martin Chicheley’s voice I heard. 


*3 


CHAPTER XXXVIL 


atartin’s story. 

“^^AMILLA, ahoy!* ic was the shout I had 
heard Martin give many a time, and hearing 
it now put such new life and strength into me, 
that I struggled free from the fellow who was 
holding me, and was on my feet the next moment. 
I heard someone running, and Martin passed me 
like a flash, meeting my would-be murderer ere the 
miscreant could reach the foot of the steps. Then 
it was all confusion for a few moments, during which 
I was fighting for life, my bare hands opposed to 
my antagonist’s stiletto. 

I suppose it was nothing but my despair which 
gave me advantage over him, for I had my grip in 
the neck of his goatskin coat, and sent his weapon 
flying. But so strong was he, that although I kept 
my hold at his throat, and so tightly that his bloodshot 
eyes were starting from their sockets, I could not 
throw him from me. And then he had released 
himself, catching me in his arms that pinioned mine, 
lifting me from my feet. I guessed his purpose, 
which was to hurl me down the sloping rocks, and 


martin’s story. 


355 


that meant certain death — nothing could save me, 
and I gave a despairing cry. Martin and his 
antagonist were struggling at a little distance from 
me, neither gaining the victory, but as I was forced 
to the edge of the descent, there was the sound of 
a heavily falling body. 

Not six yards separated me from that awful fall, 
down through tangled boughs and jutting rocks, 
and I felt my foe exerting his great strength to its 
utmost, his breath coming harshly in his effort to 
throw me down ; and inch by inch I fought for life. 
Three yards now and a wild dread robbed me of 
my little remaining power of resistance — nearer and 
nearer came the fatal edge, and as I closed my 
eyes to hide them from the horrid depth, a pistol- 
shot hissed by my ear, the grip round me suddenly 
fell away, and with the hot blood of my foe splashed on 
my face I reeled away from the descents — saved. 

Martin was at my side, breathless and eager, and 
in a moment I had recovered myself. 

“I was in the very nick of time,” he cried, “for 
they intended to murder you, Camilla. How has it 
all come about ? ” 

“You shall hear presently,” I answered, hardly^ 
able to get the words from my parched lips. 

“ Where is the man who was descending the steps ? ” 

“ There, ” answered Martin, pointing to where the 
ruffian lay motionless, “ but whether he is dead or 
no I care not, seeing he is quiet.” And then I 
glanced round for the other man, but he was no- 


356 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


where to be seen. I guessed, however, that he had 
fallen down the descent, and there we were glad 
enough to leave him. 

“ Let us get from this awful spot ! ^ I exclaimed. 

There may be others of the band close at hand. ” 
And we hurried away, too eager to be gone for 
more words to be spoken by either of us just then. 
Martin had bound his hand with his neckcloth and 
carried it within his breast, but it was no time to 
enquire of his hurt. It was not until some days 
later that I heard the history of his encounter with 
the murderous fellow on the steps, but that it had 
been a fierce fight I was certain. Whether his an- 
tagonist had been left alive we never discovered, 
nor did we in truth care to enquire, for the world 
was well rid of the fellow if he were dead. All I 
knew as we hastened from the scene of my escape 
was that Martin’s pistol shot had saved me from 
death, and a gratitude not to be expressed by words 
filled me. 

Before Martin would tell me his own adventures, 
I had to relate mine, to which he listened as we 
sat in a cottager’s hut, with a flagon of wine and 
some food between us. When my story was ended 
Martin gave me a curious look and a smile was in 
his brown eyes. 

“ There is more to be said regarding your cou- 
sin Signor Fabiani Brasco, but it is not for you to 
say it,” he laughed. “ And for my own part, there 
is another of your loving kinsmen, Camilla, with 


martin’s story. 


357 


whom I have an account to settle. Teodor Brasco 
and I have not seen the last of each other yet.” 

“ You have met Teodor ? ” I exclaimed in sur- 
prise. “ Where did you do so, Martin ? ” 

“At the house of Signor Vico,” replied my com- 
panion, suddenly losing his gaiety. “But let us 
begin at the right end of the tale, which starts 
from the time when I was sent by King Theodore 
into Ajaccio, where I did what I could in his ser- 
vice; and if it was not the best news I had to 
give him, there was no better to be gathered. 

“You may readily understand,” continued Mar- 
tin,” that when the chance of going to Ajaccio was 
offered me I was only too pleased to accept it 
Signor Vico had already moved from his farm and 
was living in a little house close by the town. 
That I had heard from a source I need not stop 
to explain, however, but it was the happiest piece 
of news ever told me since I got left behind by 
the ship in Corsica. 

“ I found Signor Vico’s house without much trouble, 
and received the warmest welcome from him and 
Dame Ursulo, but I was sorry to find him very 
ill. A ghoulish doctor from Ajaccio was bending 
over the bed, and looking as grave as if poor 
Signor Vico were dead already. I know not what 
ailed the sick man, and do what I could it was 
impossible to comfort Dame Ursulo and Lucia. It 
nearly broke my heart to see Lucia weeping, and 
when I learnt from her that your rascally cousin 


358 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


was minded to put her grandfather into prison for a 
paltry debt the poor fellow could not pay him forthwith, 
you can guess what my feelings were. 

“It was after the day when I gathered what 
news was to be got for King Theodore — and I did this 
by making friends with the doctor I told you about 
just now, who took me under his wing into Ajaccio 
— that upon my returning to Signor Vico’s house, 
I found Teodor Brasco there. I guessed he had 
another reason for his visit than mere money-getting — 
Lucia’s eyes told me that — and I took the young 
gentleman aside.” 

I bent forward, watching Martin’s face as he 
spoke, wondering how he could speak so coldly of 
the affair ; but I remembered that it was his natural 
way, and that his quietest words had a fuller mean- 
ing than the fiery speeches of a Corsican. “What 
did you say to Teodor ? ” I asked. 

“Not very much,” replied Martin carelessly. 
“But he understood it. Said I, ‘Your presence is 
not needed here. Signor Brasco, and moreover not 
to be endured. It will be better if you go quietly, 
as my throwing you out of the window may disturb 
the sick man who lies in the next room.’ 

“ Dame Ursulo was present when I said this, and 
she gave me a look of gratitude which assured me 
Signor Teodor was no favourite of hers. Lucia 
was with her grandfather, and the end of that part 
of the story is that the fellow went off. 

“‘I will make you answer me for this insult,’ 


martin’s story. 


359 


said he — ‘the opportunity will come,’ and he departed, 
scowling like an angry dog. 

“Dame Ursulo told me something after he had 
gone, which made me regret not having run my 
svrord through his body, for it seems Signor Teodor 
had made an offer that if Lucia would consent to marry 
him, he would pay her grandfather’s debt himself.” 

Martin’s face had become suddenly crimsoned as 
he told me this, and it needed no more to make 
the reason plain why he had threatened to throw 
Teodor out of the window, but I said nothing, and 
after a little pause he continued. 

“On the last visit I paid to Nason e,” he said, 
“he told me that his affairs had all been settled, 
his household goods sold, and that his intention 
was to quit Ajaccio. I suppose that affair with 
the tax-gatherer was at the bottom of Nasone’s 
resolution, but be that as it may, he has left 
the town.” 

“What of that same tax-gatherer?” I enquired. 
“Did you encounter him during your visits to 
Ajaccio?” 

“Having the best reason for keeping out of his 
way,” answered Martin, “I never went round a 
corner nor crossed a street, without throwing out 
an advance-guard of watchful looks. To have met 
Signor Rota would have meant to endanger the hap- 
piness of others beside my own, for that he would 
have clapped me into a prison goes without saying, 
had he caught me. But as it is I have escaped him. ” 


36 o 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“And now tell me what has happened after your 
last visit to Nasone,” I asked. “I had given up all 
hope of ever seeing you again, Martin. You have 
been away so long that I feared some harm had 
come to you.” 

“Would you have had me leave our friencf Signor 
Vico in his illness?” demanded Martin, scarlet 
again ; “ or before I had assured ipyself that no 
harm should happen to Lucia ? Ill tell you a secret, 
Camilla. ” 

“ There is no need for that, ” I laughed. “ I have 
guessed it already, but go on from your parting 
with Nasone.” 

“ Well, then, the time came when my conscience 
began to smite me in that I had not returned with 
my message to King Theodore,” went on Martin, 
“and with a heavy heart I left Lucia — that is, I 
mean, the house where Signor Vico lay dying. It 
had to come, that parting from my friends, and I 
set off upon my return to the camp which I reached 
without being hindered by anybody. My first duty, 
after having had an interview with his Majesty, 
was to find you, and that I failed to do. Serafino 
showed me a piece of paper which he had found 
in your tent, and as he was not able to leave the 
camp, I set our alone on my search.” 

“And did you find the cottage of Costini?” I 
asked eagerly, doubting very much whether such a 
place ever existed. 

“I found the ruins of it,” replied Martin. “A 


martin’s story. 


361 

crazied old woman who was hovering near the spot, 
told me the story of how the “ Vittoli ” had burnt Cos- 
tings house over his head, and that he had fled 
none knew whither. With this a dreadful misgiving 
seized me that you had met with a mishap yourself, 
Camilla, and for a time I wandered aimlessly in the 
hope of finding you. Chance brought me within 
sight of that desolate house, which you had told 
me was your old home, and I resolved to search 
there for you. To give warning of my approach 
I hailed, seagoing fashion, and from what happened 
I think my appearance anywhere was never luckier 
than at that moment.” And Martin ended his story 
with a dancing look of gratification in his eyes. 

“And now for the camp, Martin,” I cried, starting 
from my seat, the resolution to obtain justice for 
myself and the punishment Fabiani Brasco so richly 
merited, dealt out to us by the King, making me 
forget everything else for the moment. But as I 
got up, the package of writings that until then I 
had also forgotten, made itself remembered by catch- 
ing in the corner of the table. I drew them from 
the breast of my coat, opening the one which bore 
my father’s and my own name on it. It was my 
father’s will, that Fabiani Brasco had stolen from 
Nasone, and I gave a shout of rejoicing. I can 
only explain as the reason for my discovery of the 
papers, that in the distracted condition of the island 
my cousin had no safer place wherein to secrete 
his plunder, than the receptacle in his house which 


3b2 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


I had so strangely discovered. However, be that 
as it may, I had the precious document safely now, 
nor should it ever leave my hands except to go to 
those equally trustworthy. But there, upon the 
cracked top of the cottager’s table we spread the 
papers open, and I read the list of my father’s 
estate. Money, land, and houses were mine if I 
could but win justice, and I remember Martin 
clapping me on the shoulder, vowing that I was 
rich enough to live at my ease when I had got 
with him to England. 

“For,” cried he, “I am set on getting home to 
Staffordshire when the chance comes of quitting 
Corsica, and you, Camilla, are going with me.” 

“But you refused to leave when there was a 
chance of so doing, Martin,” I replied. 

“True enough,” he laughed, “I had a strong 
reason for remaining here then, but I have a stronger 
one for going away now. But you shall know what 
that reason of mine is presently, Camilla, and if we 
are ever to reach King Theodore’s army again, let 
us set off at once.” 

I was as eager as he to start, and in a very 
short time we were well on our way, with the 
gloomy house from which I had escaped, and was 
never again to see, turning blacker and more desolate 
than it ever looked, far behind us amid the eternal 
silence of the mountains. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


A CORSICAN’S REVENGE. 

W E reached the camp before sunset, and pass- 
ing quietly through the lines of soldiers, 
Martin and I cam'e to the ragged tent where 
Serafino welcomed us with a shout of joy that 
echoed again. 

“They said you had turned traitor, Camilla,” he 
cried, “ and deserted King Theodore ; but I denied 
that with an answer the fellow who told me the 
story will not soon forget. Ay, and I have been 
to the King himself no later than an hour ago with 
a prophecy that you would return to his service. 
Cesario, too, was firm in his belief in your honour. ” 
“ Then how did the rumour begin ? ” I asked. 

“ It came from that evil-hearted kinsman of 
yours, Camilla,” exclaimed Serafino, “ who vowed 
you were a renegade. It was well for you that I 
was not present when he spread such a report of 
you, or I would have asked proof from him, with 
an inch or so of cold steel.” 

“I have an account to settle with Fabiani Brasco,” 
[ answered, “ beyond his evil reports of me,” and 
363 


364 KING FOR A SUMMER. 

with this I told the story of my cousin^s house. 

“ And now tell me, Serafino, ” I continued, “ where 
are Fabiani and his fellow- villain to be found?” 

“Ask the mountains, amongst which they have 
disappeared,” he replied, “ for that long-shanked 
notary and Fabiani Brasco were seen slinking like a 
pair of foxes from the camp, some hours since.” 

“ In what direction did they go ? ” asked Martin in 
his quiet manner. “Because I also have a matter 
to settle with Signor Brasco.” 

“ In the direction of Corte they went, or at least 
that is what I suppose, ” answered Serafino. “ But 
Cesario will tell you more perhaps.” 

From Serafino we went to Cesario’s quarters, and 
there a great surprise greeted us, for pacing to and 
fro was Nasone. Cesario was with his Majesty, he 
told us when we had shaken hands and I had 
recovered from my astonishment at seeing him. 

“I have left Ajaccio for ever,” explained Nasone, 
“but doubtless Martin has told you that I have 
other business on hand now.” 

I did not enquire what this might be, for I was 
too full of my story of the plot against me, devised 
by Fabiani Brasco, to pay much heed to anything else 
just then, and to this Nasone listened with a frown 
on his face. 

“ It was to meet Fabiani that I journeyed to the 
King’s camp, ” he said, “ but my enemy has escaped 
me. To Corte, do you say he is gone, Camilla? ” 

“So Serafino believes,” I replied. 


A CORSICAN’S REVENGE. 365 

“Then to Corte will I follow him,” cried Nasone; 
and we three agreed to travel thither in company 
so soon as I had explained the cause and result of 
my leaving the camp to King Theodore. 

This I next proceeded to do, finding the King 
in a sadder condition of mind than I had ever seen 
him in yet. For there were great troubles looming 
in the distance, he told me, speaking unreservedly 
as though I were one of his most trusted friends. 

“A party has been formed against me,” he said 
bitterly, “ organised under the name of ‘ Indiflferents’ ; 
and all who are dissatisfied with the rewards I have 
bestowed, and who look to me to work greater 
miracles than are possible to be performed by a 
mortal man, have joined this party. Hyacinthus 
Paoli has gone from his allegiance and with him 
are Aitelli and Raffaeli — men whom I have ennobled. 
Already the royal troops have encountered these 
malcontents and their armed followers, and suffered 
defeat,” and the poor King turned his troubled face 
aside from me. 

“Though I have promised my subjects that a 
fleet is nigh at hand, with re-infor cements and 
supplies, the disaffection is spreading. Think then, 
Camilla Negroni, how the news that you had proved 
a traitor to my cause, pained me. I learnt this 
from Signor Fabiani Brasco your kinsman, by whom 
I was assured of never seeing you again.” 

“Because it was Fabiani Brasco’s purpose to 
murder me, Sire,” I cried, and then whilst King 


366 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


Theodore listened patiently I told him the story of 
my cousin’s crimes. 

“You shall have justice done you,” exclaimed 
the king, ruddy with indignation, “and that speedily. 
I will order this rascally fellow to relinquish his 
grasp on your property, Camilla Negroni, and see 
moreover that you lose not a scudi of it.” 

“I am here to ask permission to follow Fabiani 
to Corte, your Majesty,” I answered. “Martin 
Chicheley and one Emanuel Matra will go with me.” 

“The sooner this villain Brasco is brought to 
justice the better,” exclaimed the King, “and my 
royal word is pledged that your inheritance shall 
be restored to you.” 

With this I showed him the papers and my father’s 
will, which I had found hidden in Fabiani’s house, 
and having again received the King’s assurance of 
helping me I quitted his presence. Before daylight 
had broken Nasone, Martin Chicheley, and I started 
for Corte, with an order from King Theodore 
commanding the immediate appearance of Fabiani 
Brasco and Signor Poli before him, to answer for 
their wrong-doings, Serafino seeing us some part 
of the way on our road. 

“You may perchance light upon Massoni,” he 
said as we parted. “ And if you have aught to 
wring from the notary, do so before Massoni gets 
within touch of the rascal, for there will be no 
further speeches from the fellow otherwise.” 

We promised to be circumspect in the conduct 


A CORSICAN’S REVENGE. 


367 


of our business, and with a word of hope, Serafino 
left to go back to the camp, we stepping out briskly 
on our errand which neither of us could guess the 
end of clearly. 

On the way I questioned Nasone, as to the rea- 
son my cousin might have had in forcing me to 
sign the paper which the notary had brought, and 
what the consequences would have been, if I had 
done this. 

“We will find that out from Signor Poli,” said 
Nasone, with a stern glance before him. “ He is a 
more cunning rogue than I can fathom, but there 
is a dire punishment in store for him. Yet before 
that falls on his head, you must compel him to 
unburden the secrets concerning yourself, Camilla. 
He knows the full account of your inheritance and 
the way by which you can recover it. Fail not to 
remember what I have said about Signor Poli, who 
must be made to speak by fair means or foul.” 

“ But you will be with me, Nasone, ” I answered, 
for he had spoken as though we were to part 
presently. To this he made no reply, and keeping 
his keen glance in the direction of Corte, strode on 
in silence. Martin also spoke but little, and so, 
each engrossed in his own thoughts, we went 
steadily onward until the fortress of Corte came in 
sight, and soon after this we had descended the 
hills into the town, which was slumbering in the 
midday heat. 

The market place was deserted, as we crossed 


368 


KING FOR A. SUMMER. 


by it on our way to the notary’s house, being di- 
rected thither by a yawning lad who lolled against 
the mud wall of a cottage at the entrance to Corte, 
and without much difficulty in finding our way 
came at length before a door at which Martin beat 
a tattoo with his sword hilt. Before he could well 
finish his summons the door flew open, and the 
woman whom I had seen last clutching the notary at 
Bastia, stood like a lioness defying its enemies. 

Undaunted by the sight, however, Martin enquired 
whether the Signor were in the house, adding 
that we wished to see him upon important busi- 
ness. 

The lioness gave a sort of snort, tossing her 
head and making her black locks writhe and twist 
like a nest of snakes. 

“Signor Poli, forsooth,” she cried. “Ay, he is 
within, and not likely to stir out, having work to 
do. What is your business with him ? ” 

“ King Theodore of Corsica requires Signor Poli’s 
presence before him,” I answered, stepping forward, 
“and I have the royal warrant for this.” 

“ Then speak to Signor Poli yourselves,” exclaimed 
the fury. “I know no King, nor ruler in Corsica. 
But give me your message, although I promise you 
that Signor Poli leaves not his house without my 
permission, King or no King.” 

“ Gentle lady, ” answered Martin, making a bow, 
“ if you will deign to lead the way to Signor Poli’s 
room we will follow you. I am a simple sailor for 


A CORSICAN'S REVENGE. 369 

all my land-going dress, and therefore, as we say 
on shipboard, ‘ Heave ahead ! ’ ” 

The woman stared at Martin, doubting whether 
to rail or smile I think, and without further parleying 
turned, jerking her sinewy hand to us to follow her, 
and we went softly to a room at the back of the 
house. There, as the fierce creature flung wide 
open the door, I saw the notary seated at a desk, 
with a mass of papers before him, and upon my ad- 
vancing into the room he gave a smothered cry. 

Now, although I was tempted to say many hard 
words to him, and who better than myself had 
cause to do so, I remembered that my one object 
was to carry Signor Poli before King Theodore, 
and to use the wretched man as the means for 
recovering my inheritance, so I restrained my anger, 
speaking as civilly as though the matter were one 
of simple business. 

“You are surprised at the sight of me,” I began, 
“ and that is no strange thing when one considers 
the last time we met.” 

“ I own that you have surprised me, good Sir, ” 
replied the notary, who held the quill with which 
he had been writing, between his teeth, with his eyes 
on the fierce figure of his housekeeper who stood 
in the doorway with her arms a-kimbo, watching 
us, “ but nevertheless the sight of you does me infinite 
pleasure, for ’twas but yesterday that, speaking to 
your excellent kinsman, I said that a gallant young 
soldier — as you have proved yourself to my certain 


370 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


knowledge these many times — a gallant young 
soldier as I observed, ran many dangers to him- 
self ” 

“Of being done to death by hired murderers, 
ior instance,” remarked Martin coolly, whereat I 
saw the notary give a grip on the quill, as though 
his teeth chattered, and I heard as it were the woman 
hiss something under her breath. 

“I am not here to discuss that point with you. 
Signor Poli, ” I answered, “ although doubtless you 
and my cousin have spoken to each other often 
about me. I have an order from King Theodore 
that you must appear before him to answer certain 
charges, and that at once.” 

Signor Poli shrank down in his cushioned chair, 
and a look of terror came over his face. 

“ There is some vile conspiracy against me, ” he 
whined, “I know the meaning of this appearing 
before the German who is called King of Corsica.” 

“Who has been crowned King of Corsica,” I 
exclaimed, for the notary’s words angered me afresh, 
“by a lawful council of the state.” 

“Yet I will not go before him,” cried he, taking 
a firm hold of the desk as though I were about to 
seize him. “ I know Theodore’s justice and the 
quick following of his sentence. There was Napoleone, 
the money-lender of Citra to wit, who suffered agonies, 
through having to forego a lawful bargain, and 
Citrone the brigand — although I own him to have 
done a crime or two and therefore richly deserving 


A CORSICAN’S REVENGE. 


37 


of punishment — who was fined a sum large enough 
to bring ruin on his family. Moreover ” 

“Camilla,” interrupted Martin, turning away from 
the craven fellow, “how long are we to waste 
words in this fashion. It is time we returned to 
the camp,” and he moved toward Signor Poll who 
screamed. 

“I have business with Signor Fabiani Brasco,” 
he cried, “who is coming here from a little way 
outside the town whither he has gone this morning. 
In a short time he will be at my house, and if he 
find me gone, what reliance can he or anyone else 
place on my promises ! ” 

“Fabiani Brasco!” The name was repeated with 
a snarl by the woman who had stood regarding the 
notary. “It was Fabiani Brasco who carried you 
into Bastia, and he comes no more to this house. 
And to the King you shall go for punishment if 
you deserve it.” 

She stepped forward, and taking the notary by 
the shoulders seemed to lift him from his chair — 
there was a scuffle in which the desk was overturned, 
and Signor Poll, trembling in every limb, was held 
out in the woman’s strong grasp to us. 

“ Take him, ” she cried, shaking her snaky locks. 
“And see that he does not escape on the way.” 

I was about to answer her, when a sudden noise, 
coming from the outside of the house, caused me 
to look round. Nasone had left us, I remembered 
his doing this as we had stood knocking for admittance. 


372 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


and with a quick foreboding of evil 1 ran to the door. 

At a distance of a few yards from the house 
were Emanuel Matra and my kinsman Fabiani, face 
to face, the latter holding his sword guarding his 
breast. Neither of them heeded those who for a 
breathless moment or two were the on-lookers to a 
struggle, so fierce and deadly that I can scarcely 
record its brief continuance, nor was I in time to 
hinder the mortal encounter from its termination. 
Nasone was armed with a stiletto, and springing 
forward reached Fabiani’s throat. I saw my cousin 
reel, stumbling awkwardly by reason of his lame- 
ness, and at the same instant his sword point was 
deep in Nasone’s side. I saw the blood spurt from 
the wound, sprinkling the white dust of the road, 
and there was a little space between the two men 
for a second. Then Nasone had closed upon his 
enemy — there was the sharp rise and fall of the 
crimsoned stiletto twice — the shrill cry that rings 
yet in my ear, and with his face in the dust Nasone 
fell beside the quivering form of Fabiani Brasco. 

It had happened with the rapidity of a lightning 
flash, and I was kneeling beside the stiU body of 
the man who had wronged me so deeply, his glazed 
eyes resting in an angry glare on me. He tried to 
utter a word, yet no sound came from his lips, but 
with the movement of them was the death rattle in 
his throat. I looked down on his dead face, forget- 
ful of aught but the sudden fate which had over- 
taken him, and then the eager crowd who had 


A CORSICAN’S REVENGE. 


373 


gathered to the spot forced me from the corpse. 

Nasone had been lifted and was being carried 
into the house. “ He was yet alive, ” I heard some- 
body say, and I followed the men who were holding 
his body. Upon a bed hastily brought from an 
upper room he was gently laid, but all that skill 
could do, was powerless to stay the ebbing life. 

Around the bed we watched him slowly dying, 
and it was almost at the last before he spoke. I 
stooped down to catch his feeble words, which were 
a message to Cesario, and then a sudden strength 
seemed to come. 

“I am revenged,” he cried, “I have waited long 
for it. Fabiani killed the only thing I ever loved 
— his blood has been shed, as was my faithful dog’s 
blood shed, I am revenged at last.” 

It was ended, that long-cherished vengeance — 
ended as many another Corsican revenge had ended 
in the past, and Fabiani Brasco, unrepentant, un- 
pitied, and evil to the last, was buried, after the 
formal and scanty record of the affair had been 
taken down by the chief of the shirri in Corte. 
Crime and murder were, alas! but only too rife in 
Corsica at that period, for the duej to cause much 
enquiry or interest, Emanuel Matra was laid beneath 
the turf, beside his enemy, and when the duties 
connected with the burials were performed, Martin 
and I quitted Corte, taking Signor Poll in our 
watchful keeping. He had lost every shred of 
courage and bombast, that he had shown at first, 


374 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


vowing to make amends for all the wrongs done 
me by my cousin Fabiani Brasco, yet to his pro- 
mises I gave little heed, cheering myself the rather 
with those given me by his Majesty King Theo- 
dore. 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE GATHERING STORM. 

D uring our absence, the order had been given 
to raise the siege of Bastia, the attempt to 
capture the town being abandoned. There 
had been desertions from King Theodore’s army, 
councils were divided, and day by day the dis- 
affection grew greater. The King had retired to 
Cervione, vainly trusting to restore confidence among 
those to whom he owed his kingship, and thither 
we followed him. I saw nothing of either Serafino 
nor Cesario, although I never doubted their loyalty, 
and hoped to meet them later on. Martin and I 
with the notary went to Cervione. 

There was a council being held at the palace 
when we arrived, and having left vSignor Poll safe 
under Martin’s keeping I waited impatiently until 
the members of the council had dispersed. The 
palace wore a forlorn look, and the busy life which 
had pervaded its little rooms and passages was 
replaced by a mournful quietude. There was no 
longer a guard maintained, nor even a sentry to 
be seen, whilst those whom I chanced to encounter 
i7S 


376 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


about the building went with a pre-occupied air 
upon their business, giving little heed to anyone 
who might chose to come or go. 

I gained an audience with King Theodore after 
a trifling delay, finding him more depressed and 
thoughtful than when I had been last in his presence. 
The trappings and gew-gaws of his royalty were 
there truly, his dress and appearance — other than 
that of his anxious face — were the same, but the 
change from the former gaiety of the palace to its 
present dullness, was a sign of coming evil. 

His eyes lighted as his glance rested on me. 
“ Yours is a more welcome face than many I have 
seen this day,” he exclaimed, “for distrust and 
sullenness were upon those of every man of the 
council that has just ended, thanks be to the Saints. ” 

“ I should have been with your Majesty ere now,” 
I answ^ered, “ but events detained me in Corte. My 
cousin Fabiani Brasco is dead.” 

“No great loss that, I take it,” answered Theodore. 
“ There were strange stories of him, yet not stranger 
than of many other men.” And then he came 
near to me, putting his hand on my shoulder 
familiarly. 

“Camilla Negroni,” he said, trying to speak 
jj^lmly, “ I was minded to make my subjects happy 
and prosperous — to drive from Corsica the enemy 
who has so long oppressed your countrymen, and 
these things I would have done, had not deceit 
and opposition been used to hinder me. Yet I 


THE GATHERING STORM. 


377 


will fulfil my destiny, Corsica shall rise amongst 
nations, and those who have proved faithless to 
their oath shall have reason to regret. Paoli, Raf- 
faelli, Sistino and others — all left me, yet General 
GiafiFeri is faithful still. He and a few more, amongst 
whom are you, Camilla, I place my confidence in.” 

He was strongly agitated whilst saying this, and 
it was plainly to be seen that the trials and difficulties 
surrounding him were wellnigh insupportable. I 
remembered how much good he had done since he 
had been our king, the victories he had gained, 
for the Genoese had been driven to their coast 
strongholds, leaving the interior of the island free 
from their iron rule, and yet it had been all without 
result to himself. Of money, he told me, he had 
not enough to pay the small wages of his servants, 
whilst hardships and scanty provisions were the rule 
within the palace. Without were discontent and 
secret plottings, but so great was King Theodore’s 
confidence, and so strong his hope, that as yet he 
did not despair. 

“ When the fleet appears, ” he cried, “ all these 
black clouds that overshadow me will vanish.” 

Alas ! that fleet, which existed, like a good many 
other things, only in King Theodore’s imagination — 
was never to appear, and the fatal day was 
swiftly coming which should have seen the appearand^' 
of the hoped-for ships. However, there was a little 
time yet in which King Theodore reigned supreme, 
and exercised his royal prerogative of administering 


37S 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


justice between his Corsican subjects. And tbrtunate 
indeed was it for me that he could do this, as 
otherwise the inheritance bequeathed me by my 
father would have been seized and held by hands as 
covetous and thieving as my cousin Fabiani Brasco’s. 

Signor Poh made a clean breast of the whole 
matter, using as much care and diligence in restoring 
as he had exercised in withholding my moneys from 
me. And whether it was the dread of meeting such 
a fate as had befallen Fabiani, or the fear of the 
King’s anger (which was no slight thing when 
aroused by stories of robbery and wrong-doing) I 
cannot say, yet so prompt and energetic was the 
notary in carrying out the behests of my father’s 
will, that within a week of my bringing him to 
Cervione, the account of my estate had been prepared. 

Upon Martin’s advice I sold everything it was 
possible to find a purchaser for, and in this business 
Signor Poli proved of the greatest service. I 
discovered, however, that he had made an excellent 
profit for himself by the various dealings, and when 
it was too late to repair the wrong, that the notary 
had cheated one of the buyers shamefully. He was 
so keen and cunning that I only heard of his 
trickery by chance, and then he and his victim 
were separated from me by an expanse of sea and 
land. The proceeds of my estate I entrusted to 
the keeping of King Theodore, fearing to have so 
much gold in my own charge, and the end of this 
part of my story is, that my money was safely 


THE GATHERING STORM. 


379 


delivered to me when the time came for my bidding 
the King farewell. 

Of my cousin Teodor I had seen nothing since 
he testified against Cesario Arrighi and myself, be- 
fore the governor of Bastia. Nor had Martin 
further encountered him, and neither of us regretted 
this overmuch, as will be readily believed. 
Where he had gone, or what his plans might be, 
we gave no thought to, having many other things 
to occupy our minds at that time. 

Especially Martin Chicheley’s, for he had received 
intelligence of Signor Vico’s death, and without 
delay had set off for the house wherein Lucia and 
Dame Ursulo were left in their desolation. There 
was a bright gleam in Martin’s eyes, the look of 
determination I had so often noticed when his reso- 
lution had been formed to do something decisive. 

“You will soon see me again, Camilla,” he said, 
as I bade him adieu, “ the time is coming for my re- 
turning to England, but I shall not travel alone.” 

I wondered at his saying this, for it was scarcely 
required. He and I had decided upon leaving 
Corsica together when the chance of doing so came. 

“ I am longing to see my home again,” he cried, 
“and those whom I love. They will have given 
me up for lost long ago, I am afraid, but that 
shall only make our meeting the more joyful.” 

“Yet it will be sad to part from your friends in 
Corsica,” I said, having a meaning which he guessed, 
I think, for he turned crimson. 


38 o 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


“Not SO sad either,” he laughed, “seeing that I 
shall take some along with me into Staffordshire 
But that need not be discussed now — when I return 
it will be time enough. If I do not do so in three 
days, Camilla, come you to Dame Ursulo’s house. 
One never knows what may happen.” 

Martin departed in the direction of Ajaccio, and 
I returned to the palace, meeting Signor Poli in 
one of the garden walks, looking gloomier than 
ever. We had finished our business and I was puz- 
zled to account for his remaining in Cervione. 

“You will be expected at Coste,” I said, “your 
errand is done here. Signor Poli.” 

“Yet I would fain remain with the King,” he 
replied, rubbing his thin chin. “I am, in a sense, 
at my ease in Cervione. There is the dismal prospect 
of my aged housekeeper before me — her fierceness 
and tyranny which I detest — why should I be thus 
treated?” and he asked this question with a shrill- 
ness that made me laugh. 

“ I am truthfully informed that Massoni is well 
again from his wounds,” he continued, “ and if he 
chance to meet me — Oh worthy, gallant young Sir, 
only think of a dagger being between your ribs — 
it may be my case. No, no. I will stay at Cervione, 
though I am put to mending the roads for my 
sustenance. ” 

“ Maybe your services will be further needed as 
a notary,” I answered lightly, little thinking how 
soon and how greatly those services would be 


THE GATHERING STORM. 


38 


required; for next day a letter came to me frorr 
Martin, stating that Signor Rota, the tax-gatherei 
of Ajaccio, had made his appearance at the house 
of Dame Ursulo, with a claim she could neithei 
understand nor satisfy. 

I hastened to find Signor Poli, and \o him I ex- 
plained the matter as far as I myself understood it. 

“ I will proceed forthwith and investigate this 
affair,” he exclaimed. “ An honest way of earning 
some money is open to me. Pshaw — Rota, a mere 
gatherer of taxes — a scoundrel moreover — ay ay, 
I will quickly bring him to his senses, for this affair 
savours very much of extortion, a thing I abhor. 
Will you journey with me, Signor Negroni?” 

I shook my head. “I will come to-morrow,” I 
answered. “ The King requires my presence to-day, 
for there is to be a diet held at Sartene, and I go 
thither in his suite.’' 


CHAPTER XL. 

AN UNEXPECTED TEMPEST. 

T he council to which I accompanied King Theo- 
dore of Corsica, that was to prove the turning 
point in his life and mine, was held in the 
largest house in Sartene, and thither had assembled 
the chief men in Corsica, whose dark faces wore 
a gloomy look as the King entered to them. There 
was a time when a cheer would have greeted his 
appearing, but now an ominous silence prevailed as 
he took his seat beneath the canopy erected over 
his chair of state. Theodore was arrayed in his 
faded finery, and yet, although this seemed to 
betoken the waning of his royalty and power, he 
looked and spoke with such manliness and confidence 
that by and by the sour faces of the council lost 
their gloominess, and each word he spoke was 
listened to with rapt attention. 

First King Theodore spoke of what he had 
already achieved; of the deeds of kis brave army 
and the valour of his generals — mentioning these 
each by name, and each was cheered by the listen- 
ers — of the victories won and the defeat of Corsica’s 

38a 


AN UNEXPECTED TEMPEST. 383 

oppressors. Moreover he recounted the more 
peaceful results of his short reign, the industries he 
had created and the benefits these had brought with 
them — things that not even his bitterest enemies 
could question or gainsay. 

I can see the King’s face before me now, the 
quick brightness of it as he grew eloquent, and 
although his royalty was but a tinselled show, and 
was ready to vanish like a bubble, his glowing 
words and impassioned gestures made them real 
to me for the time being. I recalled to mind the 
great service he had done me, and the friendship 
he had always shown ; these memories mingled with 
anger against the ingratitude those who had re- 
ceived his benefits exhibited toward him in his hour 
of trial. 

Presently the King came to that part of his sj>eech 
which dealt with his promise of the coming fleet. 
There were yet some days before the date at which 
this should appear, and the assurance of this was 
repeated, amid a cheer from the assembled council, 
led by General Giafferi whose loyalty to King Theo- 
dore had never wavered. 

But the malcontents were too many to be silenced 
for long, and one of those, Count Istrias of 
Omani, made a speech violently impugning the 
King’s actions. Yet even this served a useful 
purpose, for it involved a dispute and argument, 
at which the fierce, headstrong Corsicans were no 
match for the cool, calculating and experienced 


384 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


German. He opposed their railleries with gentle- 
ness, disarming their wrath, and turning the feelings 
of the council in sympathy towards himself, and 
after a long sitting the assembly broke up. 

To this diet which he had summoned, his Majesty 
explained that his intention was to leave the island 
for a time in order to hasten the arrival of the 
fleet, and during his absence the government was 
to be carried on by a regency of three of his most 
prominent supporters. 

It was when the King and I were alone that 
ho informed me of his full purpose, and it were as 
though he had removed a mask, for I saw and 
heard his natural face and voice. 

“I have foreseen the gathering of a storm,” he 
said, half laughingly, “and I am too worldly wise 
to abide its breaking — that would be madness, and 
therefore I have for some time prepared my arrange- 
ments. A ship sailing under the ensign of the 
king of France will be off Aleria ere the week is 
ended, and in her I shall quit Corsica. Yet only 
for a time, as I told the council, for I will return 
hither, with a fleet more richly laden, and with a 
greater abundance of stores than that in which I 
came to my kingdom. I will wreak vengeance on 
those who have doubted and deserted me, and bow 
their proud necks before my throne. Like a king 
I came, and as becomes a king I will embark — 
there is to be no secrecy, but escorted by the nobles 
I have created, and the people I have rescued 


AN UNEXPECTED TEMPEST. 385 

from the yoke of the oppressor I shall depart.” 

A thousand wild thoughts flashed across my mind 
as Theodore told me this, and as though reading 
them he suddenly became serious. 

“I offer you a passage in my ship, Camilla,” he 
said, “ and my advice is that you accept the oppor- 
tunity of quitting Corsica.” 

“I cannot do so without Martin Chicheley goes 
with me, Sire,” I answered. 

“There will be room enough for half a dozen 
passengers, and these may be of your own choosing, 
Camilla,” he laughed. “There is a tempest close 
at hand, or I am no reader of the signs of the 
time, and you and your friends had best follow my 
example of escaping from its fury.” 

The royal chamberlain came into the room as 
the King spoke. Putting on his regal air the 
monarch of Corsica gave an order or two as pomp- 
ously as the King of France might have done, and 
when the chamberlain had bowed himself out of 
the room Theodore turned to me again. 

“ I will be King to the last, ” he exclaimed, “ but 
my sceptre is shaking to its fall. I see this — I 
see my danger and yours, Camilla. Hasten to your 
friends, and make speed to depart with me.” 

“But the fleet that you have promised, Sire,”^I 
answered, “ it may arrive during your absence. ” 

“ I shall be surprised if it do, ” he replied ; “ but 
we will speak no more of this same fleet, although 
I have created greater wonders than that, before 

2.S 


386 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


now.” Then we were interrupted again, and nothing 
hindering me further, I started to joinMartin Chicheley 
at Dame Ursulo’s. 

I had come within a short distance of a white 
cottage which from Martin’s description I knew to 
be the dwelling-place of the widow and Lucia, and 
was hastening forward, when Martin himself met 
me; and there was a grim look in his face. 

“ How have you fared ? ” I enquired eagerly. 
“Has Signor Rota departed or does he still plague 
the poor folks yonder ? I sent the notary to you. ” 

“ Yes, the notary came safely, and it is a case 
such as we in England call, ‘setting a thief to 
catch a thief,’ but between Poli and Rota, Dame 
Ursulo will certainly lose every piece of money her 
husband left her, unless we prevent it.” 

“ Is this claim which Fabiani Brasco had upon the 
farmer a good one, think you, Martin? ” I asked. 

“ Signor Rota vows that it is, and that Teodor 
Brasco will enforce it, now that his father is dead,” 
answered he ; “ but as to the rights of it, or the 
wrongs of it, I cannot find out, nor even what the 
claim is. We have thrown the tax-gatherer out of 
the house, however, and he is now with two 
assistants, watching for the opportunity of getting 
in again.” 

“ And what of Teodor? ” I enquired. “ Have you 
seen him.” 

“ Ay, Teodor and I have met again,” replied 
Martin carelessly. “ There is no longer any quarrel 


AN UNEXPECTED TEMPEST. 


387 


between us — it is all settled. He drew upon me 
somewhat unexpectedly, and I was compelled to 
chastise him — English fashion. You know what 
that is. You must understand that I have no 
particular desire to be killed at present, nor to kill. 
They say that Teodor is an excellent fencer, so I 
broke his sword over my knee and ” 

Martin stopped speaking suddenly, for there came 
the sounds of a desperate fray in the direction of 
the cottage, and we ran forward. The noise pro- 
ceeded from the side hidden from our sight, but as 
we reached the spot we speedily discovered the 
cause of the uproar. 

Mounted on a three-legged stool was the figure 
of the tax-gatherer, held in the grip of Signor Poll 
who hung half within and half without a window; 
and in these positions each maintained his share in 
the liveliest battle I had ever yet witnessed. Signor 
Rota’s wig had been seized from his head, and with 
this the notary was belabouring his opponent vigor- 
ously, around whom was a halo of hair powder. 
Now and then the tax-gatherer was lifted from his 
foothold on the stool, shouting the while for the aid 
of his two companions, who were, however, not 
visible; and each time the notary jerked his foe 
upward, it was with a kind of triumphant war-cr}^ 
Thief, miscreant, and villain were the mildest epithets 
he employed. Signor Rota replying with an upward 
thrust of an ugly-looking knife which had already 
inflicted a scratch on the notary’s skinny arms, the 


388 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


blood from which had crimsoned the tax-gatherer’s 
bald skull. How long the fray had lasted, or how 
soon it would have ended will never be known, for 
just as Signor Rota had been lifted once agair 
from the stool, the notary overbalanced himself, and 
the two infuriated men fell together, fluttering and 
fighting, like two fowls in the dust. 

Martin ran near and seizing the notary, dragged 
him from his prey, and I did the same to Signce 
Rota, and we held them apart. But the fury anc 
vehemence of the two men cannot easily be de 
scribed, and the whole strength of Martin was ra 
quired to carry Signor Poli from the scene of battle 
Never had that cunning gentleman fought so vali 
antly before, nor had I given the tax-gatherer credfi 
for so much courage as he professed, whilst I was 
holding his wriggling body back from his antago 
nist. I think he recognised me, for he spluttered 
out a volume of words in which were references tc 
Nason e, Ajaccio, and the damage done to a new 
cloak of his when last we had met. 

“Keep your bird out of the house, ” cried Martin, 
as he carried the notary bodily off. “ We shall never 
settle the business else,” and this I did, although 
the enraged little fellow swore to have my life a 
dozen times over. 

Martin, having locked the house door on Signor 
Poli, came back to us, and we spoke soothingly to the 
tax-gatherer, who could do no less than hear. 

* You are a very troublesome fellow,” Martin began 


AN UNEXPECTED TEMPEST. 389 

in a calm, pleasant voice, “but have no claim upon 
the hospitality of this house. Yet what is just and 
right Dame Vico will pay, and it is to know what 
sum this should be that we have employed the 
services of a notary.” 

“Who is prepared to maintain the quarrel, with 
rapier, broadsword, club, axe, or pistol, or any other 
weapon known. At ten paces, or closer, indoors 
or under the open sky I am ready to meet any 
stony-hearted tax-gatherer between the four corners 
of the island of Corsica,” and Signor Poli’s head 
was thrust out from the window like a Punchinel- 
lo’s, as he yelled out his challenge. 

“Yet not before this business is out of hand,” 
laughed Martin. “ After that is done with, you and 
Signor Rota are welcome to slaughter each other 
if your courage does not fail you both.” 

“You are a villain,” screamed the tax-gatherer, 
looking eagerly in every direction for his missing 
wig, “Where is the peruke you have stolen from 
off my head, as you would steal anything your 
knavish hands can touch.” 

It was lying in the dust, very much trampled 
upon, and I lifted it carefully. 

“ That service is in return for a kindness you did 
me once. Signor Rota,” I said, giving him the 
dishevelled head gear. “You may remember the 
barriers of Ajaccio and your adroit manner of 
passing one through them.” 

“For which I promise to make you pay,” retorted 


390 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


the tax-gatherer. “ The law — through me — has been 
outraged, and you shall be laid by the heels — 
both of you, together with that grinning scrivener^ 
whose blood I will have if there is law left in the 
country. ” 

Signor Poli sent up a jeering cry, and as by 
this time the deadliest part of the storm was over, 
we let the tax-gatherer on the field of battle, and 
going into the house, began at once upon the 
serious business of releasing Dame Ursulo from the 
clutches of Signor Rota’s law. 

It was but a small sum due by her, and this 
with Martin’s approval I made myself surety for, 
the notary, having money with him, paying it at my 
request. This he did through the window to Sig- 
nor Rota, who handed a written paper in acknow- 
ledgment of the payment by the same opening, 
and I think it was the chink of the coins which 
soothed them both sufficiently to allow the trans- 
action to be completed without further abuse of 
each other. When Signor Rota had gone trot- 
ting down the road in the direction of Ajaccio, the 
notary explained the reason for the quarrel. 

“ The miscreant was for forcing his way into the 
house by means of a milking stool, and this being 
a process unknown to the law, I resented the un- 
lawful attempt, as you beheld.” 

“ It was bravely done, ” cried Martin. “ I did not 
believe you owned such valour. Signor Poli.” 

“ I have suppressed my courage for years,” re- 


AN UNEXPECTED TEMPEST. 391 

plied the notary. “ I have the best reasons for so 
doing. Inwardly I am filled with courage, and my 
outward appearance is but a subterfuge as it may 
be termed. I have the heart of a lion, combined 
with ” 

“With a very clever tongue,” retorted Martin. 
“ Say no more about your courage, man, as there 
is little time to listen to it. Finish the clearing up 
of Dame Ursulo’s business affairs, for I sail to Eng- 
land by the first ship leaving Corsica, and with me 
go the Dame and her granddaughter Lucia.” 


CHAPTER XLL 

THE GOING OF THEODORE. 

I N a few words, taking Martin aside, for I feared 
to let Signor Poll hear me, I told him the proposal 
which the King had made to me, and how happily 
the opportunity of regaining his native country had 
come to my companion, will be easily understood 
when I state that he had persuaded Dame Ursulo 
and her granddaughter to leave Corsica, for Lucia and 
Martin were lovers now, and were to be married 
as soon as Martin had returned home. 

The business upon which he had employed the 
services of the notary was ended satisfactorily and 
nothing remained to prevent us proceeding to Aleria, 
whither the King had directed me to await his arrival ; 
and so it was that a few days after the scene I have 
described in the previous chapter Martin with Lucia, and 
I with Dame Ursulo, came to Aleria, where I procured 
a lodging for them, until the King’s departure. 

It was a week after the assembly of the diet at 
Sartene, and half a mile off shore lay the ship at 
anchor with the ensign of France flying, and in the 
town a great crowd of spectators had gathered. It 
392 


THE GOING OF THEODORE. 


393 


was a larger gathering than had witnessed Theodore’s 
coming even, and in the sloping street, along the 
shore, and at every window from whence a glimpse 
of the show which accompanied the King’s departure 
could be seen, were eager on-lookers. Flags waved 
and gay hangings decorated the house past which 
the cortege would go, and a troop of soldiers lined 
the street down to the water’s edge, where lay a 
boat, having a gay canopy erected at the stern. 

It was midday before the sounds of music, coming 
nearer and nearer, heralded the King’s approach, 
and the tap-tap of the elfish drummer could be 
distinguished (I am disposed to think that little fellow 
was in reality an imp, for he came and went 
mysteriously, and no cunning nor order could silence 
his drum). And then, riding gallantly at the head 
of a picked body of his soldiers, surrounded by 
courtiers and officials innumerable, the King appeared, 
clothed magnificently, bowing graciously to those 
whom he called his subjects. General Giafferi was 
at his right hand, the King now and again speaking 
to him with a smile on his face, as though the day 
were one of his Majesty’s greatest triumphs. 

Down the steep street, greeted on either hand 
by the excited crowd, rode King Theodore, glitter- 
ing in gold and jewels — the band of musicians 
playing a war march, and headed by the dwarfish 
drummer. Down to the shore came the brilliant 
procession, and here did the King deliver a noble 
farewell to his assembled lieges. Words that seemed 


394 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


to reach every heart, brave words, and further 
promises. He was to return shortly — their long- 
borne sufferings were to vanish before the glory of 
the time to come, and a great deal more of the 
'like sort he said. And when his speech was ended 
King Theodore stepped beneath the gilded canopy, 
standing erect there as the boat conveyed him to the 
ship. With him went Count Costa, the royal cham- 
berlain, and a few others of his officers; and when 
these had been received on board a boat was sent 
to carry Martin and myself together with our two 
companions to the French ship. Before evening the 
shores of Corsica were fading from my sight, and 
if some natural regret at leaving my native country 
were in my mind, the companionship of my true 
friends very speedily reconciled me to my new 
position. If I except one circumstance, which was 
the pursuit of our ship by a Genoese cruiser, which, 
however, was desisted from upon our showing the 
flag of the King of France, the voyage from Corsica 
to Leghorn was uneventful. We disembarked here, 
after King Theodore and his suite had first gone 
ashore, and here it was that I parted from him. 

The King had left the ship without any further 
display of his royalty, and gone to an hotel in 
Leghorn, which was situated in a quiet street, 
passing as a plain gentleman. He had told me 
the name of this hotel, during the voyage, and thither 
I went after our party was safely housed. 

I started in surprise upon entering the room 


THE GOING OF THEODORE. 


395 


occupied by his Majesty, for there before me, 
instead of a gaudily arrayed king whom I remembered, 
stood a stout figure, dressed as an abbe. He was alone, 
and as I remained a moment, gazing in surprise at him, 
Theodore came to me, holding out his hand. 

“You scarcely knew me in this guise,” he said, 
“ and those amongst whom I am about to mingle will 
of a surety not recognise King Theodore of Corsica 
in the staid cleric I have become, as you see, Camilla.” 

“I should have passed you in the street as a 
stranger. Sire,” I exclaimed. “Who would have 
recognised you, I wonder, as an abbe?'" 

“It becomes me then — this dress?” he answered, 
twisting himself round before a mirror, and we burst 
into a laugh together. “ Yes, I am as much at my ease 
as a churchman, nay, a great deal more so, Camilla, 
than ever I was as ruler of Corsica ; but the change 
is only for a time and purpose. I shall return to my 
subjects, ten times more powerful than I left them, and 
Europe is to ring yet with my greatness and glory.” 

I made no answer, although 1 devoutly hoped 
King Theodore’s prophecy might be fulfilled, and 
the next instant he proceeded to hand over to me 
the money I had entrusted to his keeping. 

“You have a perilous journey before you,” he 
told me, “ and must guard your treasure with watch- 
fulness. You and Martin Chicheley are to travel to 
England, he says. England — humph ! who knows 
but what I myself may also go to England. None 
of us can see the path before us for very far, nor the 


396 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


turnings we must each take into the unknown. If my 
path lead me to England, mayhap you and I may meet 
again, Camilla Negroni,” and he smiled pleasantly. 

We talked for some little time longer, and then 
I shook hands with Theodore of Corsica with a 
warmth our parting warranted, whilst later in the 
day his Majesty, leaving his royal chamberlain and 
officers of state behind him, departed from Leghorn, 
on his way to Rome and Florence. 

Of thejourney which Martin Chicheley, DameUrsulo 
Vico, Lucia, and I, made together through France and 
onward to Martin’s home in England, I will say but 
little. The strangeness of the scenes, the m any diverting 
incidents and little adventures by the way, served to 
make the journey pleasing, and to shorten its length to 
us. Remembering the King’s advice, Martin and I 
guarded my money so carefully that it was never in 
danger of being lost, although England had its brigands 
no less than has my native country Corsica. There 
were rumours of highwaymen, as the English call their 
brigands, who would have murdered me cheerfully 
for less money than I carried, but from these we 
were happily preserved. We came into that part 
of England, which is called Staffordshire, and Mar- 
tin’s returning was the cause of such rejoicing that 
this story would need to be unduly lengthened were 
I to record the scene, and then I was welcomed to his 
home and family with a friendliness I shall never forget. 

Many years have passed since that eventful day, 
Martin and Lucia have long been married. Dame 


THE GOING OF THEODORE. 


397 


Ursulo rests in peace beneath the shadow of a vil- 
lage church, and Martin has left the sea, becoming 
a portly squire, generous-hearted as of old and rich 
even for an Englishman. By his father’s advice I 
used my money in trading as a merchant, and have 
prospered beyond my greatest hopes. 

Of my old friends left in Corsica some are yet 
alive, but Serafino and Cesario are both dead. They 
fell as they had lived, in the service of their country, 
being killed in a battle against the Genoese. These 
things I learnt from the notary of Corte, and although 
I mistrusted every deed or word almost of his, I 
was fain to believe the message conveyed in his 
letter. He wrote with a cheerfulness quite remark- 
able, and it was not until I came to the postscript 
that I understood the cause for this was the death 
of that fierce tyrant, his housekeeper. He told me, 
moreover, that my cousin Teodor had departed from 
Corsica soon after Fabiani Brasco’s death, but whither 
Teodor had gone none knew. As to the tax-gatherer of 
Ajaccio, Signor Poli spoke of an approaching combat 
with him, writing this item so vain-gloriously, however, 
that I chose to doubt the truth of the statement. 

Of the many personages I have referred to in my 
story, and with whom I chanced to come into con- 
tact, history can tell these better than I, but of 
the principal actor in the drama something yet 
remains to be told, and of my many adventures, 
the last one I will narrate has always seemed the 
most wonderful and unexpected. 


CHAPTER XLII. 


THE PHANTOM FADES AT LAST. 

I T was some years since coming to England with 
Martin Chicheley that my business led me past 
the black, frowning walls of a debtor’s prison 
in London —a place of such horrors that no dungeon 
in Corsica could show anything more dreadful. It 
was a sight, however, with which my long sojourn 
in London had made me familiar, and I went along, 
immersed in the thoughts of a lucrative bargain I 
had just made, yet strangely enough the memory 
of my early days seemed to mingle with those 
thoughts, memories of snow-tipped mountains and 
my wild life amongst them in far-away Corsica, 
I was walking thus when I heard my name called 
in a voice which brought the hot blood to my 
cheeks and set my heart beating wildly. “ Camilla 
Negroni!” the voice cried again in a plaintive tone, 
and glancing in the direction Vvdience it proceeded, 
I beheld the wan face of the man behind the barred 
window of the debtor’s prison, whom I had known 
as “ Theodore, King of Corsica.” 

Now it is the easiest work possible to get be- 
398 


THE PHANTOM FADES AT LAST. 


399 


hind the walls of a prison and therefore it was 
that before many moments had elapsed I was seated 
opposite this poor debtor, listening to his mourn- 
ful story. He had returned to the coasts of Cor- 
sica, he told me, after traversing the greater part 
of Europe, raising money, enlisting Poles and 
Germans under his banner, and escaping by an- 
other of his miracles from an Amsterdam prison 
into which his creditors had cast him. More than 
one ship, full laden with stores of war, had he 
dispatched to Corsica, together with proclamations 
from him, their King, exhorting his subjects to 
steadfastness. 

It was a long, long story that this extraordinary 
man told me, which seemed more like a romance than 
sober truth. Fate had crushed him. Repulsed by 
his former subjects, who had appealed to France 
for help, with a price set on his head by the se- 
nate of Genoa, harassed by debts, and dogged at 
every step by the emissaries of his enemies, Theo- 
dore, Baron of Neuhoif, came at last to that turning 
in his life’s path, which he had spoken of to me long 
ago when he and I parted at Leghorn, and the 
turning was in the direction of England. Hither 
misfortunes pursued h^m, and having exhausted all 
his resources, prison walls shut him out from the 
outer world in which he had wandered so long and 
lived his short life as a monarch of Corsica. So 
poor was he now, that the sum of money I gave 
him seemed a fortune to his hungry eyes, but to 


400 


KING FOR A SUMMER. 


release him from prison was beyond my means. 
It required a greater power than mine to deal with 
his creditors, but this power was found in the person 
of an English statesman. 

King Theodore — he never relinquished that dig- 
nity — did not long survive his release from prison, 
nor enjoy the modest income provided him by the 
great man to whom he owed his freedom. To his 
creditors Theodore made over his kingdom as 
security for his debts, cherishing the phantom of 
his royalty to the last. I saw much of him during 
the closing months of his adventurous life, and 
Martin Chicheley smoothed many a little trouble 
away from the fallen man. 

The King died peacefully in the year seventeen 
hundred and fifty-six, and those of my readers who 
choose to search, may read upon a monument in 
the church of Saint Ann in Westminster his epitaph 
and the record of his vicissitudinous career. 


IHE END. 



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